


Battle for the Republic

by onceandfuturejedi



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceandfuturejedi/pseuds/onceandfuturejedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Anakin doesn't turn to the Dark Side, but instead flees with his daughter Leia and joins the Rebellion while Padme remains behind with Luke as a spy in the Senate. Han Solo and Obi-Wan make their appearances too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Oh Anakin, I miss you…”_

Luke paused on the threshold of his mother’s bedroom, unwilling to intrude on what he suspected was a private moment. It didn't matter; his mother had developed a sixth sense for knowing when someone was at the door. She turned, exchanging a startled expression for a smile on her pale face as she saw her son at the door.

“Hello, Luke, can I help you?” She left the tiny balcony and sat on the stool in front of her ornate dressing table, watching her son through the mirror as she sifted through her makeup. He wasn’t sure what he’d walked in on—he’d never heard her speak the name Anakin before—but she had probably been about to begin getting ready. She had a Senatorial dinner tonight, Luke knew, and it often took her hours to prepare for them, what with the elaborate styles expected of Senators.

“Mother, I need to travel to the Outer Rim for a few weeks. Javvi wants me to pick up some primo parts that are available at an auction on Tatooine. I told him I’d have to clear it with you, I know you wanted me to serve as a translator for when the delegation from H’ngu arrived.”

“Tatooine?” His mother appeared not to have heard him fully; she was gazing at him intensely but vacantly, as if she was lost in thought. “Tatooine…”

“Yes Mother, Tatooine. It would only be for a few weeks; the auction is a big affair and generally Javvi would go himself, but he can’t afford to leave the shop with the delegations coming in. With all the travel, their ships will need servicing and…well, it’s a big season and usually the auction doesn’t fall at the same time.”

“Of course Luke, Javvi needs you much more for this than I do, I can easily find another translator.”

“Thank you Mother. I’ll go tell Javvi.” Luke turned to go.

“Oh Luke? Will you be traveling alone?” He turned back, where she had turned to look at him fully. Her eyes were tired, he noticed; the strain of planning for the delegation visit had to be getting to her.

“I was thinking of asking Han to come with me. Always good to have another pilot on hand.”

“As long as he doesn’t get you into any trouble,” she warned half-heartedly. “We can’t afford any extra attention from the Emperor right now.”

“Of course not, Mother, we’ll be top form.” He flashed her a cheeky grin and she smiled.

“When will you leave?”

“As soon as possible, probably tomorrow.”

“Well off with you then, I’m sure you have a lot to get done before then.”

“Thank you, Mother!” Luke turned and vanished, his black robe flapping as he left. Senator Padme Amidala returned to her vanity and regarded her reflection contemplatively. Luke was twenty years old. Surely it was time for him to know the truth?

It had been nearly twenty years since the Clone Wars had ended and Senator Palpatine—still known only to a few as Darth Sideous—had seized the Imperial Senate and created the Galactic Empire. He had begun with the destruction of the Jedi; taking an apprentice—whose true identity was still a secret after all these years—the two of them had murdered nearly two hundred Jedi Knights and Masters and easily that many, if not more, padawans. The clone troopers had long since been bent to his will, and they served as his most loyal soldiers, carrying out his orders with utter mercilessness. Emperor Palpatine, as he now declared himself, still functioned through the Senate, but it was essentially an empty body, a farce to assuage the more foolish into believing that there was still a vague semblance of freedom still left to them. There was not. The galaxy was bowed beneath the cruel fist of the Empire and it seemed there was nothing that could be done about it. In the time since his coup, the Emperor had changed the face of the galaxy. Fear was now the shadow that loomed over every system; fear of the Empire and their ever-increasing demands and ever more destructive laws. Force potentials were to be handed over to agents of the Empire without delay or question. Spies lived on every corner; you could hardly know who to trust, but for many it was the only way to feed a family. Taxes were levied so that no system could function without the reciprocal handouts delivered by the Empire—handouts that for many planets deemed to be of “low-benefit” to the Empire could barely sustain a city, let alone an entire system. Every ship in the sky was tagged, registered, and could be taken at any moment for the benefit of the Empire. Every system lived in fear.

Padme Amidala had continued in her function as resident Senator for Naboo after her pregnancy—but it hadn’t been easy. The Emperor knew exactly who the father of her son was, and held that knowledge over her head as an assurance of her continued support. For that reason, she remained faithful to him and was still considered a member of his inner circle—though she knew the true reason she was there was because he hoped that one day Anakin would contact her and reveal his location, allowing Sideous to destroy the last remnants of the Jedi forever. For Anakin still lived. He had not turned to the Dark Side, though he had been tempted by his friendship with Sideous, before realizing the Darkness that lurked on the path he was following the then-Chancellor down. He, Obi-Wan, Yoda, and a very small handful of other Jedi had escaped the Purge and had been scattered and on the run for years, always bringing hope—and a little rebellion—wherever they traveled. With their help, a true rebellion had been building for the past five years. It had almost crumbled after the brutal military occupation of Alderaan, their base planet, but it had not—instead, it had hardened into a true force to be reckoned with.

Padme was proud of the Rebellion she had helped create. Because of course she had not stood idly by and allowed Sideous to destroy the liberty she believed in so deeply. She had remained behind on Coruscant because she had been too weak after her pregnancy to escape with Anakin when he fled with Obi-wan, and then had chosen to remain so that she could one day do exactly as she had now done—create a network of spies that fed the Rebellion the best information on the Emperor as they could ever hope to receive. It was not without its dangers; she knew if the Emperor ever found out the true depth of her rebellion she and Luke would be put to death instantly. Nor were the sacrifices she had made to be taken lightly. She had not seen Anakin, nor her daughter, Luke’s twin sister, for nearly fifteen years now, and Luke…Luke didn’t know who they were at all. She had decided it was better that way, though it had nearly broken her heart. Better for Luke during his childhood to never know that his father was a powerful Jedi Knight, one of the most hunted men in the galaxy, nor that he had a twin sister who lived with his father outside the law. The less he could say to listening enemy ears, the safer they were from assumptions that she knew—or even cared—where Anakin was.

But he was very nearly a man now, and she knew the time had come. She had been careful never to suggest that she was not fully loyal to the Empire while he was growing up, hiding all signs of her connection to the Rebellion, but he was smart, clever as only her son could be as he grew into a political-mindedness she knew he’d inherited from her, and she knew that deep down he hated the Empire and wanted nothing to do with it. Every so often she would see flashes of Anakin in him—he was easily as good as flyer as Anakin had been during the war, and he had an impetuous streak that could be terribly dangerous at times in the world they inhabited—and though it made her heart feel as though it were breaking all over again, it also made her proud. She had hidden any signs of the Force that he had shown as a child with difficulty, but had succeeded; Luke didn’t know anything about the power that lay untapped within him. He was the son of a loyal Senator, who chafed at his role. And now it was time. The time had come for him to decide if he would truly stand against the Empire as she and Anakin had done all these years in their different ways. It was time for him to know who his father was—and where he was.


	2. Chapter 2

“We all set to go, Han? Han?” Luke dropped his bags inside the doors of Javvi’s transport ship, and ducked through the wire curtain into the cockpit, looking for his best friend.

“Almost, the— _ouch!_ —the damn motivator panel down here keeps coming unscrewed. I don’t know why Javvi even keeps this piece of junk, I’m frankly amazed she can still fly.” Han’s dry voice emanated from below the floor, and Luke crouched at the edge of a hole in the floor where a panel had been slid away to reveal the inner workings of the ship.

“Javvi keeps it because you keep her in good repair so he never thinks he needs a new transport,” replied Luke with a grin his friend couldn’t see.

“Well, remind me when we get home, I really should stop. I’m amazed she even stays in the sky long enough to pass Imperial inspections anymore.” Han’s tousled head popped up over the edge. He had enviously good looks: brown curly hair, a strong nose and jaw, and eyes that could go from bar fight mad to dangerously mischievous to roguish laughter in the space of a heartbeat. Despite being nearly five years Luke’s senior and from the wrong side of the tracks where society was considered, they were best friends. Han was Luke’s ticket to everything non-Imperial Senate—and, of course, all the trouble he could ever want, seeing as how Han had a pretty good smuggling gig for whenever he "got bored". They’d met when Luke had been trying to run away from home once when he was fifteen. Ironically, Han had talked him out of it, and they’d been friends since.

“Ah c’mon, you know inspections aren’t half what they used to be anymore. I’m not surprised Javvi can keep her in the clear.”

“Maybe off planet they aren’t what they used to be, but you’d better believe if you want to get a wreck like this off the ground here on Coruscant you’d better be good at bribes.”

“Javvi probably is. It’s a pretty healthy business he runs.”

“Yeah? Well, I run a healthy business too, and it ain’t because I’m good at bribes.” Placing his hands on the ledge behind him, Han lifted himself out of the work room and swung his legs out. Luke envied his easy grace and comfort; Han wore trousers with a red stripe on each leg, tall boots, and a white shirt that was never fully tucked in nor buttoned up enough to hide his muscled chest. Luke himself was dressed in the formal black robes and trousers expected of a son of a prominent Senator, with a scarlet crest embroidered on the left of the chest. It certainly wasn’t his favorite outfit, but he’d been raised from a young age not to ask questions of what the Emperor decreed. In his mother’s household, you did what the Emperor ordered no matter what you thought of it. As a child he’d believed it was out of respect, or duty. Now that he was older, he realized it was so that nothing you did drew attention to yourself as someone who would challenge the Emperor.

“A healthy business? Is that what you call it?” He stood, brushing off his robes. He came to slightly below Han’s ear, and it made him quite proud that he was nearly as tall as his older friend.

“Yes. Yes I would.” Han shoved the panel back over the work room and stamped on it to seal it into place.

“Great. Now, can we get out of here? I want to get out of these,” here he lifted a fistful of the heavy black material up with annoyance, “as soon as possible.”

“Aye aye, Mr. Senator sir.”

“Luke? Luke!” Luke spun as his mother’s voice caught his attention, giving Han time to drop into the pilot’s seat and avoid the mock punch Luke usually threw his way after the epithet that drove him crazy.

“One sec, Han, then we should be ready to go.” He left the cockpit and met his mother as she was coming up the gangway. She smiled when she saw him, but Luke thought she looked even more worried than he'd ever seen her. More sad, too.

“Yes, Mother? Han and I are about to take off.”

“I know, I just wanted to say farewell before you left,” she said in a soft voice. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the Imperial Guards that stood forbiddingly at the entrance to the hangar bay. Nowadays she was almost always accompanied by at least six of the Emperor’s Imperial Guard whenever she left her apartments, supposedly for her own protection since the occupation of Alderaan and the unrest that had followed. Luke suspected there was something else going on, some other reason for the guards, but he wasn’t sure what it could be. His mother wasn’t particularly supportive of the Emperor in her own philosophies, but she was not rebellious, either.

“Well Mother—” she silenced him with a look, then reached out a hand. He took it, mystified, and felt her palm a small card to him. It felt like a holochip, but catching her eye, he merely released her hand and slipped it into his pocket surreptitiously without question.

“My dear boy.” She smiled then for real, and pulled him into a hug. He could feel the silver bands of her hairpiece pressing into his ear, and smelled the familiar scent of her perfume. “Watch it when you’re in hyperspace, far from here,” she whispered urgently into his ear. “Then destroy it. Don’t ever let the Empire know you have it.” Releasing him, she nodded formally then turned away. Luke watched her go, then lifted a hand in farewell and then headed back up the gangway.

“Finally ready?” Han began flipping switches to start up the takeoff sequence. Luke kicked Han’s toolbox into it’s proper position against the far wall and crouched down to strap it into place, then dropped into the copilot’s seat beside Han. “Got the paperwork all ready for passing through the system borders?” asked Han, his joking manner aside as he focused on taking off.

“Yep. Javvi signed them, they’ll get us straight through to Tatooine and back with our cargo, no problem.”

“Good. This’d be a real short trip otherwise. Look sharp, Mr. Senator, incoming Imperial yahoos.” Sure enough, out their window they could see the expected black cruisers that were planet border control. A holographic image of a man in a uniform appeared above a blinking light on the dash.

“Transport vessel Cadera 33-69223, please state your name and business.”

“Luke Naberrie, with pilot Han Solo, flying transport vessel Cadera to Tatooine in order to purchase parts for Javvi’s Ship Repair,” responded Luke woodenly, sliding the “paperwork” Han had referred to—actually a silver disk with the flight manifest stored on it—over the responder so that the information would be relayed to the other ship.

“Thank you sir, you may continue on your journey.” The holographic figure disappeared, and Luke leaned back in his seat. 

“Well that went well,” snarked Han, pulling the thrusters and grinning as the Cadera shot away from the cruiser and out of the busy, orange atmosphere of Coruscant.

“Yeah, thank goodness Han Solo isn’t the name of an infamous smuggler or anything, huh?” Once the ship settled after it’s bumpy exit through the atmosphere, Luke stood up and left the cockpit. Han flicked a few switches, watching a monitor to his left. There were strict laws regarding hyperspace now, especially around Coruscant. The monitor would tell him precisely when he was permitted to make the jump, and the readout beneath would ensure that his path was safe. No need to beam through an astroid field or bounce too close to a supernova.

Meanwhile, in his bunk, Luke was busy yanking off the heavy black robes. Flinging them aside, he threw on his own clothes; a black long sleeved shirt and a pair of brown trousers, with a hefty belt and holster strapped around his waist. He roughed up his blond hair self-consciously; his mother was always so strict about appearances. Picking up his robes, he shook them—and heard a clink as the holochip his mother had handed him fell to the floor. Folding his robes over his arm, he bent down and scooped it up, holding it up to the light. It was a tiny chip, no bigger than his thumbnail, and shone a pale blue. “Watch it when you’re in hyperspace,” she had said. “Let no one from the Empire know you have it.” Luke tucked it safely into a pouch that hung off his belt, determined to watch it after they made the jump. His mother would not have taken such a risk giving him this—whatever it was—under the nose of the guards if it didn’t require his immediate attention.

She did that sometimes, with more and more frequency within the last few years. Sometimes he would be given a task to do that made no sense, but required the utmost care and cleverness to fulfill. They had made a sort of game out of it, in the end; she would give him a task and he would see it done to the best of his ability, no matter how strange, and when he succeeded, he was always filled with a strange sense of pride, as though he were helping a cause even larger than he knew. He had long since given up asking her to explain the tasks; if there was anything he had learned about his mother, it was that she was a secret unto herself. She would die before explaining things properly, if she didn’t want to.  
Abandoning his folded robes onto his bed, he left the bunk and returned to the cockpit. He dropped into his seat and leaned back, hands behind his head, propping up his boots on the dash.

“Much better. Now, let’s get out of this system,” he said. Han shot him a look and smacked his feet off the dash, but, with a glance at the monitor, pulled the hyperdrive. With a hum, the stars began to blur into long streaks of pale light, and the ship shot away from Coruscant into the black.


	3. Chapter 3

“Leia? Leia! Lei—-aa!” The pretty brunette girl woke with a jerk, knocking a sheaf of papers to the floor as she raised her head off the desk where she’d dozed off. Scrambling, she scooped the papers up off the floor, stacked them haphazardly on the desk, dashed into the kitchen and took a gulp out of a mug on the counter and grimaced—cold, stewed tea from the night before. “LEIA!” Gasping, she snatched a rucksack up from a low stool and ran headlong out the front door. Skidding to a halt, she nearly knocked over her father, who stood impatiently beside the land speeder.

“Sorry, Father,” she said, pushing the hair that had worked it’s way free of her braid out of her face. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Leia, we need that part for the Manticore. If we don’t get it the ship’ll be stuck here for another cycle and the Rebellion needs it badly.” Anakin, his handsome features long since cragged by the trials of being on the run for nearly two decades, handed his daughter a wad of credits.

“I could just bring it here, with the Force,” she said, the tiniest hint of impatience in her voice. He shook his head.

“No! You know why we couldn’t do such a thing.”

“I know, I know, we can’t draw attention to ourselves, we might give away our position. But we’re leaving anyways, so who cares?”

“Leia, you know how long it took to get rid of Palpatine’s men the last time they got on to us,” said Anakin wearily. “We can’t afford that again. Not with the Rebellion so close to rising up and taking true action.”

“You’re right,” Leia said, softening. “And I don’t mean it. I know what we’re doing is important. We can’t afford to jeopardize it, not now.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Now go! We have to get that part early so we can be gone before the bigger crowd of buyers come later in the week. We can't risk staying with so many outsiders coming.”

Anakin watched Leia jump into the speeder and take off, zipping over the dunes and out of sight, before turning and disappearing down a set of hidden steps into the underground dwelling where he and Leia had been living for nearly a year. It was the longest they’d settled anywhere, and he could tell—the tiny, three-room dwelling had begun to take on a lived-in sort of look, with laundry hung to dry in his bedroom, random papers scattered over three tables that were crammed along one wall of the kitchen/living area, and Leia’s blanket sloppily tossed across her bed in the other bedroom. Schematics were tacked across the walls in her room, and, he noticed with a jolt, the silver hilt of her lightsaber was sticking out from beneath her pillow. Shaking his head, he sat at the only space free in the main room—the kitchen bar where they ate most nights.

He and Leia had lived a different life from Padme and Luke on Coruscant. There was no relative safety for them, no danger that lay hidden and insidious within the walls of the Imperial Senate; they ran from danger to danger, fighting the Empire in whatever way the situation demanded. They’d taken out fleets, destroyed food supplies for the Emperor, disabled propaganda distributing stations, and generally raised hell wherever they went, managing to stay ahead of Palpatine and his mysterious apprentice by sheer luck and skill. Anakin and Obi-Wan, when he’d been around, had acted as Jedi Masters to Leia, taking her through the stages of Jedi apprenticeship as best they could, keeping the old traditions alive when able. The Force was strong within Leia; she would have been a powerful Jedi Knight had she lived within the Old Republic. As it was, she was an incredible fighter; Anakin had come to rely on her in his work to undermine the Emperor, not just as his daughter, but as a trusted ally. Few people knew that the mantle of the White Knight—a freedom fighter whose exploits against the Empire were now the stuff of legend—had been taken up by the twenty year old daughter of Anakin Skywalker, rogue Jedi Knight. In truth, all of the remaining Jedi had at some point contributed to the legend since it’s inception at the start of the Emperor’s reign, but Leia had taken it upon herself to build the legendary warrior into a true rallying point for those who could not directly be a part of the Rebellion.

Anakin was proud of what his daughter had done; she showed all the spirit—and stubbornness—of Padme in everything she did. Leia knew the truth; that her mother had remained behind in the Imperial Senate as a spy, and that her twin brother had been raised on Coruscant. It killed Anakin to know that he had not been there to be a father to his son, and that he had left his beloved wife behind in the lion’s den. It had been hard not to see her the past fifteen years; glances at holonet coverage of Senate meetings, where she stood, stony faced and elaborately coiffured, did little to assuage his longing for her presence at his side. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force, searching for her presence, light years away. Sometimes he could sense it, faintly, and it would comfort him. This time, however, he could not reach her—instead, a commlink pinged, breaking his concentration. He picked it up, swallowing his frustration and sadness and trying to calm his mind as he’d been taught as an apprentice.

“Yes?”

“Anakin! Anakin, do you copy?” The voice of Obi-Wan, twenty years older but still strong, came through the commlink. From the sound of furious rainfall behind his voice, Anakin suspected his old Master had retreated once more to Camino, where he had allies who would shield him when things got too hot for him in the field.

“I do, Obi-Wan, what is it?”

“We received an encrypted transmission,” Obi-Wan shouted through the link. “From Padme! She said—said—Luke is—” his voice stuttered and was cut out and Anakin let out a cry of frustration, gripping the link till his knuckles where white. He’d never been all that good at controlling his emotions, anyways.

“What about my son?” he shouted back.

“Luke is—coming! To—-to Tatooine,” Ben’s voice returned. “Soon. Just—wanted you to be ready—she’s sending him—to you—” with a pop, the connection broke completely. Anakin stared at the link, half cursing the rainstorms that covered Camino that made it hard to get transmissions through and the safety measures that meant he could never contact Padme himself. His son was coming to Tatooine! That meant it was time.


	4. Chapter 4

“Han, did you leave in that holochip reader after the last time you went through and revamped the kit back here?” Luke knelt beside a metallic panel that he had swung open to reveal a complicated array of wiring and switches. Han, reclining on the couch in the sitting room just off the cockpit, lifted his head up half-heartedly, squinting at where Luke was.

“Yeah, I left it in, check the left hand side towards the bottom.” They’d been traveling at light speed for most of the day now, and Luke knew they’d be coming out of light speed to approach Tatooine within the hour. He’d waited until now to play the chip, bearing in mind his mother’s warning to play it only once he was far away from Coruscant. Sliding the little chip in, Luke dimmed the lights. Han didn’t stir from his position.

There was a moment of soft whirs as the machine creaked into action, then a holographic image of his mother appeared. She looked more worried than usual; before even speaking she glanced over her shoulder as though afraid someone would overhear her. Luke suspected the recording was a little under a year old; he thought he recognized the dress she was wearing from the year prior, and fashions didn’t remain the same for long on Coruscant.

“Luke. Years ago, when you were a child, you asked me why you didn’t have a father the same way the other boys did. I told you it was because your father wasn’t someone you needed to know; he was of no importance to our lives and you were better off without him. I couldn’t bring myself to lie to you, to tell you that he had died, but I couldn’t tell you the truth either. Because it has been of the utmost importance that you didn’t know the truth about your father until now.” There was a pause, and Luke felt his breath catch. He had always wondered who his father was. No one could tell him, and his mother had deftly quashed any questions, as she had on the day she had mentioned. “Your father, Luke, was Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and once the most celebrated war hero in the galaxy. We were married in secret, unknown to most of the world because the Jedi of the Old Republic were forbidden to fall in love. However, your father was at one time a close friend of Emperor Palpatine, and he told Palpatine of our marriage. As you well know, the Purge occurred just as you were being born. While I remained behind, Anakin was forced to flee with what remained of the Order, as well as—“ here she took a breath, “—as well as with your twin sister. Yes, Luke, you have a sister. Leia is her name, and I have not seen her since she was very small child. I’m so terribly sorry I couldn’t tell you this myself, but my position in the Senate has been growing ever more perilous as Emperor Palpatine grows tired of waiting for Anakin to contact me and in doing so betray himself, and as the Rebellion grows, and my part grows with it. All will be explained in time, but for now, Luke, you must find your father and your sister. If you are watching this, it means that you are somehow off of Coruscant and able to go to Tatooine, where they have been living in hiding for nearly a year. Find them, and tell your father that the time is now. If we wait any longer, we risk everything, and the hope of the Rebellion rests with us. Please tell him this, Luke. And Luke…please, remember that I love you. I kept this from you for your safety and mine, and that of the Rebellion, but I would have given my life if I could ever have reunited our family.”

The holograph blinked out, but Luke continued to stare at the space where her image had been. So his father was not someone to be ashamed of, as he’d believed. His father was Anakin Skywalker! The hero of the clone wars, a Jedi Knight. The most hated thorn in the Emperor’s side. And his mother was clearly not the disquieted Senator she had pretended to be all his life; that brief mention of the hope of the Rebellion resting on them…and he had a sister. _A twin sister._ Leia…he turned to look at Han, who was staring at Luke as though he’d never seen him before.

“Luke Skywalker. Has a nice ring to it,” said Han, breaking the silence first as he always did.

“ _Luke Skywalker_ …yeah, yeah it kind of does. Damn, who would ever have thought?” Luke exhaled forcefully, and Han shook his head.

“Not me, kid. I would never have thought Anakin Skywalker could have been your old man.”

“And…a sister? A sister? How could I have a sister and never known about her? How could my mother keep this from me?” Luke jerked upright, suddenly angry. Han shook his head.

“Look, Luke, I’m sure she had her reasons. It doesn’t sound like it was an easy decision for her. And with the Emperor keeping such a close eye on her…you know how it is, you've lived it! If he knew who your father was, like she said…”

“Yeah, everything makes sense now,” Luke said, deflating. He dropped back into his seat. “I just can’t believe it. Anakin Skywalker! And—and a sister!”

“I know kid,” said Han. A loud pinging sounded throughout the ship, and Han got to his feet, slapping a button on the wall behind him and silencing the pinging. “Well, that’ll be us, coming up on Tatooine. What do you say we go find your old man and your sister?” Luke nodded. His mind was still whirling with the revelation of his parentage, but one thing was clear: his mother had told him to find his father and sister and deliver the message, and he knew better than to ignore a task from his mother. It was time to meet his father.


	5. Chapter 5

Leia pulled the speeder neatly to a halt and jumped out, landing easily on the loose sand. She surveyed the outskirts of Mos Eisley with disdain; she preferred the buzz of the cities they had lived in before and the anonymity that they provided to small Outer Rim towns like this. _Especially_ like this; Mos Eisley was a bit of a dump—a dangerous slum, really—run by the Hutts, who really only cared about what happened in the town if they didn’t get their share of profits. Decent place to hide out—there was an unspoken rule that you didn't ask questions that you didn't absolutely need to know the answer to—but still. Everyone knew everyone here.

She could see from here the beginnings of the auction already; buyers of a multitude of different races and alien species were wandering amongst the wares: dozens of full-sized ships and countless models of speeders, ship parts and consoles, even a few sets of wings and one engine that she could tell from a distance was probably better off going into the scrap pile instead of into a ship. All were lined up in neat sections, with an auctioneer at the end of each row, ready to settle bargaining disputes and small brawls that were sure to break out. The sun beat down on the edge of town from the pale cloudless sky, continuing its merciless mission to bleach everything on the planet to the color of sand, and Leia knew that the temperature would soon be unpleasant to be out in, if she didn’t hurry. Pulling her pale blue wrap around her tighter for protection, she crunched across the sand towards the auction, reviewing the qualifications for the part she needed to buy for the Rebel ship she and her father were repairing on a holoscreen projected from a wristband.

That had been their life the past year—repairing ships for the Rebellion in this godforsaken corner of the planet farthest from the center of the universe. They had been in Naboo the year before, bouncing around the system and especially its beautiful but busy capital city, helping take out a small Empire coterie within the palace and restore the Queen to her full powers. But the mission had made her father sad—sadder than she had ever seen him. They had stayed in a hidden retreat in the mountains while there, and he would often return to look out over a beautiful lake from a private balcony. Small, nothing special, it had taken a while before she’d understood its significance to him. She would see him him standing there, lost in a thousand memories that, in time, she realized were of her mother and the brief time they had spent here. But he would never speak of her, except to tell Leia that Padme would be proud of who she had become. After that assignment, the Rebellion had deemed it safer for Anakin to disappear for a while, let things calm down again, and so they had relocated to Tatooine. There were memories that haunted them here, too, Leia could tell, but as her father was rarely allowed to leave the area they hadn’t surfaced. Her father carried much pain in his heart, she knew, but he was the strongest man she’d ever known. He allowed nothing to stop him from fulfilling his duty to the Rebellion and the cause they fought for. 

The Rebellion was lucky her father had joined up, she thought; contrary to what much of the Empire believed, the few Jedi who had escaped the Purge hadn’t formed the Rebellion. They had separated to survive and fought the Empire as they could, but the Rebellion had been originally begun on Alderaan by Senator Organa and others. Alderaan was occupied now, but the Rebellion had continued, and their base was a secret kept so closely that Leia didn’t even know exactly where it was. Anakin and Obi-Wan had chosen to join forces with the Rebellion a few years after its inception. Her father’s gift with machines, however, had proved to be incredibly useful over the past year, just as much—if not more—of a benefit than his abilities as a pilot and fighter. A lot of things got broken when you were beginning a Rebellion.

Reaching the edge of the sale, she clicked off the hologram of the part she was looking for. The Manticore, a Delta 7B Aethersprite Interceptor, needed the part in a bad way; the hyperdrive was out of whack and would be completely useless if they couldn’t repair it. Spotting a row of parts similar to what she wanted, Leia headed in that direction and began to pick over the pieces with a discerning eye.

Immediately, however, she felt a prickle that meant something was off. Her father had never put much stock in it, but Leia swore by the sixth sense she’d developed for when danger was approaching. Obi-Wan said it was a strong sensitivity to the shiftings of the Force, but all she knew was that when the hair on the back of her neck began to prickle and she began to shiver, they needed to get out fast. Turning surreptitiously, she scanned the auction ground for the possible source of the danger. If it was only some local thugs hoping to take advantage of a young, seemingly helpless female, well, they would be in for an unpleasant surprise, she thought, hand going to her holstered blaster very casually. They would soon learn why the blaster was her weapon of choice, despite being quite skilled with the lightsaber—and why her father trusted her with the mantle of the White Knight. She spotted no such predators, however. All the locals were focused on purchasing and haggling over the parts, trying to get the best deals before the foreigners arrived and the prices began to go up, and the foreigners who were there were mostly engaged in the same. Frowning, she turned back to the part she’d been examining the moment before, when a flash of white caught her eye.

“Sithspit!” she muttered, as three Imperial Stormtroopers rounded the corner of a building. One had the orange shoulder pad that marked him out as a commander.

Hurriedly, she turned her attention back to the table of parts. It wasn’t as though they knew who she was; if she didn’t draw attention to herself she could easily get the part, get home, and warn her father and the Rebellion that Stormtroopers had shown up even in the Outer Rim, which had long been considered an area of relative safety if one was being hunted by the Empire. Finding a part that fit what she was looking for perfectly, Leia picked it up and headed towards the auctioneer that managed her row, brushing past a human male in tan trousers and a black shirt, who was examining pieces and muttering to himself.

With a surprisingly small amount of haggling—Leia suspected that the auctioneer was trying to avoid the attention of the stormtroopers just as much as she was—she had the part wrapped and tucked safely into her rucksack. Keeping her head down, she left the rows of goods, passing within spitting distance of the trooper, who had paused next to a table full of small console pieces and was speaking to a turbaned Bothan.

“…recently received intelligence that the White Knight has been sighted in this area, possibly with the fugitive Anakin Skywalker. Any individual caught aiding these two will be subject to the same punishment…” Leia swallowed hard. The White Knight had indeed been spotted; she’d put on the uniform two weeks ago and rescued fifteen girls from slave traders that had been passing through the dunes to sell at Mos Eisley. Anakin had been angry that she’d endangered herself, but hadn’t been able to argue in the face of what she had done. She hurried past, trying not to make eye contact, and ran straight into a towering human male.

“Watch it, bascha,” he snarled. Leia took a step back and groaned inwardly. This, even more than the stormtroopers, was likely the source of her unease: the man she’d run into was only one of six powerfully built and angry-looking men. Armed to the teeth, she thought she recognized the one to the left of the leader who was missing two fingers in what was clearly a recent injury—she herself had sliced those fingers off with her lightsaber only two weeks ago when he'd tried to grab her while she had been fighting to rescue the slave girls. Not that they could know it was her—the White Knight mask was top of the line—but these six had shown a propensity for violence and had no qualms grabbing girls off the streets in broad daylight, and thanks to her, they now had no wares to sell _and_ no ship. She may or may not have returned and blown up their ship in a fit of pique, after getting the slave girls to safety and seeing how terrified they were.

“S—Sorry,” she whispered, trying to make herself small. Not that she couldn’t take them—but she was in a tight spot. She couldn’t defend herself properly with the stormtroopers there. She couldn’t even try to use the Force to influence their minds—the stormtroopers were too close, they’d hear—and if the slavers attacked, then they would have good cause to wonder why a human woman with bad-quality false documents was so skilled in combat. Noticing how the leader was eyeing her, she felt her blood begin to rise, the Force beginning to hum through her as she reached out her senses to prepare herself. The slaver grabbed her arm and she yelled reflexively—his grip was bruising—and then she heard shouting from behind her as all hell broke loose.


	6. Chapter 6

“Han, Han, leave her! C’mon man, we need to get to the sale,” Luke stood in the sand, arms crossed, watching Han wander beneath a Corellian light freighter, stroking the bottom with a longing look in his eyes.

“She’s beautiful…”

“I know, I know, she’s gorgeous,” he grumped, grabbing his friend’s arm and pulling him away before the seller, a relatively small Hutt, could approach to try to begin negotiations. “Come on, we can come back I promise, nobody's going to buy that piece of junk.”

Grumbling audibly, Han left the freighter and followed Luke towards the rest of the sale. Scanning over the auction, Luke closed his eyes, recalling the general suggestions of items that Javvi had asked him to look for. The sale was arranged in long rows of pieces and parts and an engine that he made a mental note to keep Han away from; it was a wreck and shouldn’t be in a ship, but that wouldn’t stop him.

“Can you look for landing gear parts? Javvi said they sell like crazy back home, hopefully we can find some good stuff to take back.”

“Sure thing,” Han said, slouching towards a row of parts and giving a playful salute to two blue-hued alien females, who giggled. Luke rolled his eyes and headed towards the row that included all things hyperdrive-related; Javvi had specifically mentioned needing hyperdrive repair parts, since many of the ships that would come in for the annual delegation visits on Coruscant needed their hyperdrives repaired. He passed a young woman with dark hair tied in a braid and a body wrapped in a pale blue swathe of fabric to protect her from the sun. She shifted to let him pass and the fabric gaped open to reveal a well-kept blaster holster and weapon. He grinned to himself; out here, women went armed. Han would like that.

He was immersed in deciding which pieces were worth it to bring back when she brushed by him again; he hardly noticed, trying to figure out whether a Y1000 model would be worth it—there were so few Y1000s flying but when one popped up it paid to be the only repairs shop that carried the part needed—but he noticed when the shouting started up at the edge of the sale. Looking up, he saw the girl in blue yelling, trying to push away a giant of a man who had grabbed her. There were three Imperial Stormtroopers nearby, and Luke swore under his breath. He’d been hoping to avoid Imperial contact. It would have been nice to take a trip where he could pretend the Empire didn’t exist, and barring that, he didn’t want the Empire anywhere nearby if he was going to search for his father and his sister. But he couldn’t just leave the girl—

“Luke, don’t—” he heard Han from four rows over, then a sort of humming grew in his mind and he felt…power. A force like he’d never known flooding through him, flowing down to the tips of his fingers and making his heart beat as though it was trying to break free of his chest. Without fully stopping to consider, he raced towards the girl, shouting something mostly unintelligible, even to himself.

It was as though something else had taken over his body. Luke wasn’t a bad fighter for his own part—Han had taught him to street fight and even he had said that Luke was pretty good—but now he was extraordinary. It was if suddenly he could see what the men were going to do before they even shifted to move themselves. One strike of the fist against a jaw brought down one man, one pivot allowed Luke to deliver a series of blows that took down another man as he shifted to attack. A couple of clumsy blaster shots from the girl—and one impossibly quick strike that protected Luke’s blindside from the leader—and the remaining slavers fled into the maze that was the back alleys of Mos Eisley. Luke tensed, prepared to chase after them, when he felt a touch on his arm and looked the girl in the eyes for the first time. Her clear brown eyes seemed impossibly familiar, as though he’d seen them somewhere before, and their expression—he could tell that she was strong and capable, and he felt a momentary flash of silliness for rushing in to help where he had not been needed, and just as inexplicable, an answering rush of anger.

Footsteps and an ominous command of “Halt!” from behind him banished the thought, however, and in the space of a breath, Luke spun to face the three stormtroopers, his palms outstretched towards them. He felt a surge, and suddenly, the three were flying backwards through the air. They landed heavily in the sand some distance away and didn’t stir again. Luke stared at his hands in shock, unable to comprehend what he had just done. He heard a quiet intake of breath from the girl beside him, then felt her hand grip his arm tightly. He looked down at her, opening his mouth to ask if she, perhaps, had been the one to propel the stormtroopers away, and she shook her head.

“We need to get out of here,” she said in an low, urgent voice. “Now.”

“I—”

“Luke! What in the name of—what were you thinking? _What have you done?_ ” Han had sprinted over, his face livid and his voice shaking.

“We cannot stay here!” the girl shook Luke’s arm more insistently.

“Why did you just suddenly rush in there? How did you do that to those troopers? What—”

“There’s no time!” She hissed at Han. “Look!” The two boys followed her line of sight and saw a group of auctioneers frantically gesturing to another patrol of stormtroopers who had just arrived.

“Maybe we can explain—” Luke barely got the words out before she cut him off.

“You just attacked three Imperial stormtroopers using the Force! Do you think an explanation is going to cut it?”

“I—no—the _Force?_ —”

“ _We-have—to—leave_!”

“Luke—”

“ _Now_!” As she shouted the last word, the stormtroopers began shouting, running towards them. There wasn’t much time to think after that; the three of them ran for their lives, ironically following the girl’s attackers into the alleys. The shouting was louder now, complemented by blaster shots that ricocheted off of dun walls around them and screams of the locals. Deeper into the alleys they ran, trying to twist and weave enough to evade their pursuers. Crouching behind a short wall, they tried to catch their breath.

“Do—either of you—have a ship?” Rather than looking afraid, Luke saw that the girl looked exhilarated. He wasn’t sure what there was to be exhilarated about, however, as his heart pounded painfully in his chest. The rush he’d felt before had all but dissipated.

“Docking Bay 65, transport,” panted Han. She shook her head. “We’d never make it out of here on a transport. Too big, too slow.”

“Then what?” Luke asked. The sounds of pursuit were growing louder.

“I don’t know! Let me think,” she snapped, raising her head above the the wall for a brief second before yanking it down again. A blast bolt sailed over head.

“Well how did you get here?”

“A land speeder! Even if we all fit, which we won’t, it would never be fast enough. And we would lead them straight to—” she cut off and looked at Luke poisonously. He glared back, then broke off when another bolt flew past and shattered a flowerpot.

“I know where we can go!” Han looked feverish, excited suddenly. “But we need to get back to the auction ground.”

“Oh _no_ —“ Luke shook his head, suspecting what Han had in mind, but the girl overrode him.

“I can get us back there,” she said. “If you have a ship in mind?”

“Oh I do,” Han replied.

“Then on three?” they nodded. “1…2… _3_!” They burst from behind the wall, to meet four troopers just coming out of the alley. The girl screeched and took out three with a series of lightning fast shots from her blaster—when had she even drawn that, Luke wondered—and Han picked off the last one with his own blaster shot. She turned and appraised him for half a second, then took off down a different alley. Exchanging a glance, the two tore off after her.


	7. Chapter 7

Leia sprinted down the alley, blood singing. She could feel the Force roiling up at her fingertips, itching to be used, but she ignored it, forcing it to be submissive to her command. The two boys followed her, clumsy and loud in the unfamiliar territory. She could hardly believe what she’d just witnessed—the blond, the one who’d rushed to her aid without blinking, had used the Force! And so carelessly too, she thought, as she leaned against a wall, waiting for them to catch up. Although when she considered it, she doubted that he had realized what power he’d possessed. Just one glimpse of his face was enough to tell her that. What was she going to do with them? She couldn’t abandon them to the Empire, especially not with the power the boy had just shown; whoever he was, he would be executed for sure, and the dark-haired one would be as well, just for traveling with him.

When the two had caught up, Leia led them on a twisting, confusing route to the auction grounds, listening constantly for the sounds of pursuit. She hoped whatever ship the dark-haired boy was thinking of when she’d asked was fast and in good working order; they would need to get out of orbit to avoid any Imperial entanglements while she figured out how to get back to her father. Despite the trouble they were in, she couldn’t deny that she was a tiny bit grateful for the blond boy’s interference. His distinctive—and undoubtedly Force-enhanced—fighting style had made quick work of the slavers while allowing her to keep her cover as an innocent bystander. She had fired off a couple of shots, but she’d made sure that they were clumsy and hardly indicative of the skills she actually had. Of course, now the Empire was probably going to think that the White Knight was saving girls on the outskirts of Mos Eisley.

“Sithspit,” she muttered to herself. This had the potential to be a problem; she didn’t know anything about these boys. She couldn’t reveal herself anymore, and certainly not who she was—

“Do you know where you’re going?” the dark-haired had grabbed her arm. She turned angrily. 

“Of course I do. I’ve lived here for nearly a year now, I had to learn the streets if I wanted to get around. We’re almost there.”

“Fine. Great,” he shot back, apparently sensing her tone. They went back to traveling in silence; they were being more cautious now as they approached another back alley entrance to the auction. Peeking around the corner of a building, Leia spotted four of the troopers immediately. Gesturing wildly, the three ducked down.

“Now what?” she looked at the dark-haired one.

“There are four troopers that I can see, and we’re straight across from the ship dock.”

“Han, are you sure—”

 _“Yes._ Look, there’s a Corellian YT Model Light Freighter in Docking Bay 3. Top of the line fast, and she’s in good condition too. All we need to do is get on board and we’re golden.” Leia looked at him. There were _so_ many things that could go wrong with that plan—suddenly there was an outcry and renewed shooting from behind them; their pursuers had caught up.

“No time to argue!” shouted Han, who stood and, grabbing Leia’s hand, dragged her after him into the streets.

Immediately the troopers Leia had seen began shouting, and, when the three showed no signs of stopping, began firing their weapons. They sprinted, heads down, through the crossfire, Leia torn between amusement and irritation at the grip the dark-haired boy had on her wrist. She was glad he knew where he was going, however; between the smoke and the screams of auction-goers, Leia didn’t see any Corellian freighters until they stumbled upon one, rising out of the smoke like a silhouetted boulder. The boy dragged her up the gangway, the blond following close behind and occasionally firing off a few shots from a blaster he’d picked up somewhere from a fallen stormtrooper.

“Luke! Hit the doors! You, either buckle in or get to the guns,” the dark-haired one took control easily, shouting commands as he ran headlong towards where the cockpit was, situated off to the left of the nose of the ship. Luke—the blond, obviously—smacked a hand across the panel to the right of the door and the gangway retracted just as the first stormtrooper reached it. He leapt and made it onto the gangway only to be dispatched by a bolt from Luke. He was a good shot, she’d give him that. Satisfied that no troopers could get in, he turned to Leia.

“Guns….should be one of those two,” he said, pointing to two hatches to the right and left of a bulkhead. She grinned.

“Thanks for not assuming I was going to 'buckle in,'” she said. He shook his head.

“After that shooting in the alley? Not a chance,” He leaned down the tunnel where the dark-haired boy had disappeared as they felt the hum of the engines start up beneath their feet. “Han’s going to need a copilot, these freighters aren’t meant for one.”

“I’ll get to the guns,” she replied. They separated, Luke vanishing down the tunnel and Leia climbing down the ladder and dropping into the gunner’s chair.

There, she paused for a moment. _“After your shooting in the alley,”_ he’d said. She racked her brain, trying to think when he meant, then remembered—they’d gotten their lead after taking out the front line of troopers, and she had done most of the shooting. What a foolish thing to do, she thought. It had been heat of the moment, but she doubted she’d be able to pull off the innocent moisture farm girl in front of him any longer. A large impact shook the ship and she jammed the headset on and shouted into the microphone.

“ _Hello?_ We need to get out of here!”

“Thanks for that insight,” the snarky voice of the dark-haired one—Han, she remembered—came through loud and clear. “I thought we’d just sit here and wait a while, hey?”

“Han, she probably can feel the shots more than we can,” the other boy-Luke, Han had called him-had a softer voice, though equally dry-humored.

“So? Doesn’t need to butt in,” Han replied. “Trying to focus.”

“Focus? On what? We just need to get out of atmo!” Shrieked Leia as another blast rocked the ship, tilting the gunner pod sideways and sending her scrabbling for the controls. She could see blaster bolts flying past.

“ _I KNOW_!” roared Han.

“It’s not like we’ve ever flown one of these before!” shouted Luke, softness gone from his voice. The next few minutes were comprised of static, the clacking of buttons and an impressive amount of swearing, and Leia focused on flipping her own switches to start up the guns in the pod. It was a standard set up, but it would work best once they had left the ground. After another burst of swearing, and a teeth-rattling impact, Leia felt the ship leave the ground.

They were in the air for a mere second before the ship suddenly slammed down again, bouncing Leia hard in her seat.

"What happened?!" she screamed.

"I can fix this! There's a cable! It stops people from doing exactly what we're trying to do-Luke, TRY THAT ONE!"

" _Han!_ " she screamed again; she could see the cable he was talking about, connected to the foot of the landing gear, and behind it, several squadrons of stormtroopers. 

"Fire!" shouted Luke over the comm. Leia swiveled, firing at random. She'd never trained to shoot in a ship like this, it responded to her every movement instantly, almost too fast for her to control. 

"Luke, Luke, there must be a connector by the door! It needs a manual unlock!"

"I'm on it!" Over the whine of the engines Leia could hear Luke's footsteps as he ran towards the bay doors. With another blast that shook the ship, Leia saw the cable snap around, taking out a few of the closest troopers. "Got it!"

"Right! _Here-we-go_!"

The freighter shot up with alarming speed, and she had bare seconds to get off a few shots at the ion cannons that were aimed in their direction before they were out of reach of the land guns. The ship rocked and bucked in the sky as it headed towards the atmosphere of the planet, and Leia screamed as they suddenly plummeted, then regained altitude.

“Fly straight, will you?!” she shouted into the headset.

“You come up here and we’ll see how well _you_ fly!” Han yelled back. “We don’t even know your name!”

“I'm Leia! And-I had NO INTENTION _OF DYING TODAY!_ ” The ship spun into a barrel roll as she finished her sentence, causing her to let go of the gunner controls and desperately grab hold of the sides of the pod, biting her tongue hard in the process.

“Don’t _DO_ that, Luke—”

“Well, OBVIOUSLY!” shouted Luke in response. “Han, no, the blue then the _second_ red, that’s how we dropped the last time—”

“Right. Well, Princess, nobody intends to die today, so shush please.”

“Princess? I’m not a princess—”

“No? My mistake,” Han replied, sounding sincerely unapologetic. “HIT _THAT_ ONE, LASER BRAIN!” His sudden shout made Leia wince.

“Kriffing hell, I _DID_ hit it, Han, it’s not my fault!”

“Boys—”

“Incoming!” shouted Han suddenly, and she leaned forward to see a handful of TIE fighters coming after at full speed.

“Those are short-rangers, if we can get out of planetary range we should lose them,” Luke shouted. Leia didn't have time to appreciate his knowledge of Imperial fighters before the ship spun into another stomach-churning roll. Spitting out blood, she gripped the gunner controls and let loose a few shots; she hit one but there were still dozens more behind it. 

“We’re not clear for hyperspeed yet, this one takes longer to calculate!”

“NO! Don’t jump to light speed,” Leia yelled, seized by panic.

“Why the kriffing hell not?” snapped Han. The unmistakable sound of TIE fighters filled the gun pod as the first two ships zoomed past, moving to cut them off.

“Because—because—I can’t leave my father! He has to know that the Empire is in the Outer Rim!”

“Look, we can get a message to him—” Luke sounded calmer than Han, but only slightly.

“No, he’s not allowed interspace communication unless it’s over a secure channel, and this isn’t one! We have to get back on planet—you said this ship was fast, can’t you outrun them?”

“Look Princess, she’s fast in _hyperspace_! If we can’t jump we’ll be sitting ducks!”

“Why can’t you get a message to him? It’s an emergency, I’ m sure he’ll understand!”

“No! We can’t—” Leia made a snap decision as the ship rocked from a hit by an oncoming ship. “My father is Anakin Skywalker! We’ve been in deep cover, if we break it now the Empire will know where we’ve been hiding and we’d never make it back in time!”


	8. Chapter 8

Luke sat, frozen in his copilot seat, his hand stalled reaching out for something in the controls that now, in light of discovering that his twin sister was in the gunner’s pod of their stolen ship, seemed unimportant. Slowly, he turned to look at Han, whose shocked expression mirrored his own.

“You—You’re Leia Skywalker?” Luke couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice.

“Yes, I am. And I can’t abandon my father, he needs to know that the Empire is here on Tatooine, you understand?”

“Skywalker? As in, the rogue Jedi?” Luke had to be sure. Absolutely had to be. But even as he asked, he felt deep down a rightness, a certainty that she was his sister. It registered deep in his core like the power he'd felt right before this had all started. Her eyes. Of course-his mother's eyes.  _Leia._

“Yes! What other Skywalkers do you know of? I am Leia Skywalker, my father is Anakin Skywalker! Now—” Her voice was drowned out by a more immediate concern—the TIE fighters had finished hanging back and were now moving in for the kill, apparently having had enough of Han repeatedly jamming their attempts to contact the stolen ship. Green bolts were flying past the cockpit now, and Luke could hear the distressed whine that said the deflector shields were beginning to fail.

“Look, we’ll jump to light speed then jump out and come back—”

“No!”

“We don’t have a choice, Princess!” Han slammed a palm across the hyperdrive controls just as the cheerful blip of the monitor informed them that it was safe to make the jump. Immediately, the stars outside the cockpit blurred into bright white lines, and the whir of the TIE fighters vanished as the ship shot forward into hyperspace.

“No no no no _no_!” Leia’s voice faded from the headset, and Luke hit the autopilot—it was on his side of the dash, interestingly—and stood up, bracing himself for her to start shouting again. Of course, now that he’d realized that it was his father that they were leaving behind, he was more reluctant to continue. He couldn’t keep a disbelieving smile off his face. His father! His flesh and blood father—Anakin Skywalker. He had never cared less about their current predicament—being on the run from the Empire in a stolen ship seemed like nothing when compared to the fact that he finally, finally, had the chance to meet the other half of his family. And his sister! The sister he’d never even known he’d had.

The sister in question, however, did not look nearly as pleased as he felt when she appeared at the entrance to the cockpit, looking remarkably like a sabertooth tiger. Even Han looked a little taken aback at her ferocity when she start shouting.

“ _How dare you_! How could you make the jump, we’ll never make it back before the Empire traces my steps back to where my father is hiding, he’ll have no warning, he could be captured or worse—do you know how long they’ve been looking for him? Since the fall of the Old Republic! And without him, the Rebellion could be in trouble—how could you do such a thing? After I told you who he was?” 

“Look, Princess—“

“ _You!_ You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking, nerf herder!” She looked really mad now, and Luke took an involuntary step back as Han rose to his feet indignantly. “Don’t think I don’t realize that it was you who made the jump. You may as well have condemned my father yourself!”

“Your father! What about _us_! Look, sweetheart, I didn’t particularly want to get caught all because of somebody’s old man—no offense, Luke.”

“None taken,” Luke said vaguely. He was trying to drink in his first real, conscious look at his sister while also deciding how best to get back to Tatooine to his father. Going back to rescue him was not really the first meeting he’d had in mind, but he’d take what he got.

“No offense to him? Why would _he_ be offended?” Leia let out a bark of incredulous laughter.

“Because he ain’t just _your_ old man, sweetheart,” Han shot back smugly. “This here’s Luke—your brother.”

There was utter silence in the cockpit. Luke was torn between exasperation at Han for revealing it that way to her and anxiety about her reaction. She stared at him as though she’d never seen anything like him before, though he knew her silence couldn’t last. He tried for a half smile, but only managed to produce a grimace, which he turned towards Han, who merely mock-saluted him.

“My brother? You can’t be,” Leia had finally found her voice. “He—if I had a brother at all—would be on Coruscant. With my mother—if she were still alive.” Luke had to appreciate her attempt to protect his mother, even if mention of her brought a twinge to his conscience as he thought of the trouble he would cause her after all this.

“No, I—I really am. I'm the son of Anakin Skywalker. My mother is Senator Amidala of Naboo. I only learned who my—our—father was earlier today, my mother kept it a secret. She—she said she did it for my protection, for the protection of the Rebellion. I—I didn’t even know you existed. You were taken away by Anakin when he escaped with the other Jedi during the Purge, but my mother chose to stay behind—with me.”

“I—”

“Han, here, play the chip.” Luke pulled the tiny holochip his mother had given him out and handed it to Han. He had taken it from the transport, intending to destroy it somehow while they were off the ship. After a few seconds awkward silence while he poked around, Han found the reader and slipped in in. The figure of Padme appeared in glowing blue, and Luke could see the resemblance of Leia in the sad face of his mother. Leia watched in rapt silence as their mother delivered her message once more, her expression unreadable.

“You see? I really am Luke Naber—Luke Skywalker,” he said when the message finished and the image vanished. Leia stared at the spot where the projection had been.

“I—I knew you existed,” she said softly. “Anakin told me. I just never—I’ve never heard her voice.” Luke reached out tentatively and put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “We have to get back now,” she said.

“I know. Han?” Han rolled his eyes at Luke for half a second. 

“I only set the jump for half a parsec. I was never gonna go that far, anyways. We should be just about to—aha.” The stars reappeared abruptly as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. “Look, we can set a course for as close as we can get to—wherever it is you come from, drop through atmo fast then pick up your old man for a happy reunion, then get the hell out of there.”

“We’ll have to ensure we don’t attract the Empire’s attention; after this I’m surprised if they won’t set up a blockade. They’re very thorough,” put in Luke.

“They wouldn’t expect us to go back to Tatooine after only just barely escaping,” said Leia. “We might have a chance. But we have to hurry. All they have to do is start asking about the girl with you two; the locals know where I live, even if they’ve never seen my father. But once the Empire shows up…” 

“Turning around now.” Han dropped back into the pilot’s seat and spun around to face the front of the ship, where he immediately sent the ship into a stomach-churning but graceful semi-circular turn back towards where they’d come from. Leia gripped the side of the entrance, then lurched forward and buckled herself in behind the two. “Here goes nothing.” He twitched the hyperdrive controls, and once again the stars blurred past.


	9. Chapter 9

Padme Amidala heard the soft chime that indicated someone was at the door and felt her heart skip a beat. She had instructed her Guard to turn away anyone for the next few hours, claiming the desire for some quiet after the business of the day. The truth was quite different, she thought, propping herself up on her elbow from her position sprawled across her bed on her back. She was planning, and it was hardly relaxing.

Because of the sensitive and dangerous nature of her position as the spymaster on Coruscant, Padme couldn’t afford to keep hard evidence of her connections to the Rebellion anywhere near her, and so she kept the relevant information—her contacts, where they were, who their Rebellion handlers were, the like—in her mind. It was difficult sometimes, to ensure that she never made a mistake, never was wrong, but the stakes were so high, and she’d been doing it for so long, that it felt second nature to her now.

A second chime sent her bolting up off the bed and pulling on her most elaborate dressing gown over the casual blouse and trousers she often wore when she was alone. There was only one person who could override her request for privacy while the Imperial Guards were on duty. Trying to keep her hands from trembling slightly—the strain was starting to get to her, it was nearly time to request a retreat from the Senate for a month or two, perhaps when Luke returned—Padme pressed the keypad beside her door and spoke.

“This is Senator Amidala, how may I help you?” It was an empty formality; she knew exactly who was there.

“Senator, my dear, I’d like to speak with you,” the chilling, creaking voice of Emperor Palpatine echoed tinnily through the speakers.

“Of course, Emperor, at once.” she keyed in a code, and the doors to her chambers slid open with a hiss, admitting the one person in the entire galaxy Padme hated the most.

Palpatine had change much since the first days of his power; Padme knew that close contact with the Dark Side could change a person physically, and had long since ceased to be shocked by the wreaked visage of the man she’d once trusted as a fellow Senator. Gone was the tall, stately though elderly man, the sweeping gestures and overly kind eyes, and in their place was a hunched, hooded, repulsive creature of a man, his skin creased in a thousand folds from years stolen through the Dark Side and eyes yellow and bloodshot and pure evil. His voice still made Padme want to shudder, but she had had so many years of practice hiding her true emotions. She met his gaze steadily as he entered, allowing the senatorial facade she so rarely removed to stiffen her spine proudly and make her face emotionless.

“Senator Amidala, I’m afraid I come bearing the most grave of news,” he began, his voice full of false sympathy.

“Grave news, Emperor? What has happened?”

“It regards your son, Luke,” here Padme felt her blood turn to ice, but she allowed no excess emotion to color her voice when she responded.

“Luke? Is he alright? Has he been injured?”

“Far worse than that, Senator. It would seem that he has displayed the ability to use the Force.”

“What?” Padme stared, feeling as though all the air had left her lungs. The penalty for using the Force was death.

“Indeed, it is grave, is it not? I had never thought your son could be so…traitorous,” he said. Padme remained silent. She had had to use all of her skills to hide Luke’s burgeoning Force gifts as a child; she knew how closely the Emperor had watched Luke, to see if he’d ever shown any inclination to having inherited Anakin’s power. She was so proud that he could use the Force, but so afraid of losing him.

“No…neither did I,” she replied woodenly. “How did this come to be?”

“There was a report of a riot on Tatooine. A young woman was attacked, and two young men rushed to her rescue. One used the Force so carelessly, he killed several Imperial Stormtroopers, and several more were murdered by his companions in their escape. They stole a ship and fled, I’m afraid, making their offense even more serious.”

“Emperor, my son would never do such a thing, are you certain it was him?” Padme began to feel fear coursing through her. If they caught Luke and Han now, and this girl, whoever she was…

“I have seen it,” he replied. A gesture brought in a red-cloaked Guard, who revealed a tiny holoscreen, where a scene was played out; two boys, one dark-haired, one light, and a girl with distinctive dark hair ran from behind a low dwelling, dodging blaster fire and into a freighter. The gangway immediately began to rise, and Padme saw a trooper fall, and, for half a second, her son’s set face as he backed away from the gap. Her stomach turned over. “We already know your son’s companion is one Han Solo, a petty smuggler from the lower levels, but the girl…do you know her?” Padme dutifully looked at the screen, now displaying a larger and more detailed image of the young woman’s face. She looked familiar, as though she was someone Padme might have known long before…she shook her head.

“I’m afraid, Emperor Palpatine, that I can shed no light as to her identity. Luke has never mentioned such a girl to me. I assure you if I knew, I would tell you.”

“I know it. Should your son contact you in any way, or you find some clue as to her identity, you are to bring news of it to me yourself, Senator. Once we capture your son, we can discuss…consequences.”

“Yes. I will, thank you, Emperor.” There was a moment of tension as the Emperor stared into her eyes. Whatever Palpatine saw convinced him, for he glided away, the doors hissing closed behind him. Padme, always conscious of never truly being alone, for once could not find it in her soul to care; she dropped to her knees near the door, burying her face in her hands and letting herself sob silently. Her son was in more danger than he knew. For the crime of using the Force, for fleeing and killing Storm troopers, and truly just for being the son of Anakin Skywalker, Palpatine would never let him live. And if he were to die…she wasn’t certain she could bear losing him.

A soft ping from her holoscreen meant that there was a recent news broadcast; she reached up and swiped to allow the screen to project the news out into the room and found herself staring into the eyes of the girl Luke had been seen with. There was something there, in her eyes, in the set of her chin, something so familiar…she gasped, then covered her mouth and glanced in fear at the doors. When they remained solidly closed, she returned her gaze to the projection, hand still hovering over her lips, staring into the eyes of her daughter and wondering how Luke had found her at last.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 hits! Since I just started, I'm feeling rather proud. Here's a new chapter!

Anakin stared in horror at the holonet, where his daughter’s face took up the entirety of the broadcast. His lips moving slightly, he read the captions beneath her photo. So they didn’t know who she was; she had been spotted in conjunction with a boy who had used the Force, then had fled with him and another boy in a stolen ship. He smashed a fist into the table. How could she do something so monumentally stupid? She _knew_ —the Rebellion had to come first, they had made that decision. He pressed his fingers into his temples and closed his eyes. She took so much after him. To do something so rash—his thoughts flickered back to his own crazy speeder chases and insane flying maneuvers during the war, Obi-Wan shouting at him and the thrill of the Force singing through his veins as he did the impossible. He shook his head, frustration welling up in him. Leia had been _bored_ , stuck on Tatooine for a year, and he feared she’d picked up on some of his pain, though he had never told her about how her grandmother had died not more than 50 kilometers from here, and the dark days that had followed after. He suspected that she could also sense—and therefore share—much of his own immense frustration and boredom at being told to remain here. _Again._ They were used to being on the run, fighting for their lives. Hiding out as Outer Rim mechanics and rarely poking their noses above ground didn’t suit either of them.

The comm center let out a series of beeps and he leaned over and flipped a switch, allowing the frequency to open.

“Anakin!” The figure of Obi-Wan rose from a thin disk set into the countertop with a series of pings from the comm system and Anakin shook his head again. This was bad. His old mentor, though grizzled and gray now, could still look alarmingly forbidding when he chose, and despite the poor quality of the comm Anakin could tell that Obi-Wan was very upset.

“Yes, Obi-Wan?” He shifted to get a better seat, facing his mentor.

“Have you seen the broadcast? Anakin, what did she get herself into? Why didn’t you stop her? Don’t you realize what she’s done? This could undo everything we’ve worked for!”

“Obi-Wan, you underestimate her. She would never betray the Rebellion.”

“Anakin—“

“Quite frankly, I’m a touch offended you even considered the possibility of such a thing.”

“That is—my apologies, Anakin, but you know that it’s a possibility, if Palpatine were to get ahold of her—”

“We’ve been careful. She doesn’t know everything. And she won’t be captured. She’s too good.”

“Anakin—“

“No. She is, Obi-Wan, how many times has she been chased by the Empire? She’s always come through alright.”

“Anakin this is _different_! And at any rate, how could you let her do something like this? Who is this boy she’s with?”

“How could I let her—Obi-Wan, I wasn’t _with_ her! I’ve been here, sitting on my ass, doing exactly what the Rebellion ordered me to do, which is keep my nose clean and fix ships. I sent Leia out to get one piece for the Manticore, and then all of a sudden I get these broadcasts. Don’t you think that I would give anything to have been beside her, to stop her? She’s my daughter! I would sooner have it be me.”

“I know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan’s voice softened, sensing Anakin’s frustration. “I just—”

“Obi-Wan, we’ve been trapped here a year! Neither of us is meant for that.”

“I know. I told Admiral Von Eckley not to leave you there, but he needed—I don’t know, a break from worrying about you two? You’re the most wanted man in the galaxy—yes, even more than Yoda or I—and she’s not only your daughter and a leverage point against Padme, but she has been acting as the White Knight for nearly two years now. I knew what this would do to you. But I knew you could handle it. You’re not the rash apprentice I foolishly told to stay put all those years ago. I trusted you would do what was best, and that you could control Leia.”

“I appreciate your trust, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s voice was sincere, though there was a wry touch to it. “But leaving that aside, it doesn’t sound like she started anything, only got caught up in the middle of whatever it was.”

“No, you’re right. Who _is_ this boy?”

“I don’t know. They aren’t showing his picture on the broadcast.”

“Hopefully, the Rebellion can find out who he is. If he’s Force-senstive, not only is he in great danger, he has the potential to be of great use to the Rebellion.”

“Don’t I know it—Obi-Wan, you don’t think they’d let me—I mean, I’m so close out here already—”

“I’m sorry, Anakin, but no, I don’t—" Several anxious pings cut off his sentence.

“Sorry, that’ll be my Rebellion contact. Hopefully they’ll at least appreciate that I stayed put,” Anakin griped, sounding like the sulky apprentice he’d once been. Obi-Wan shook his head and vanished. Anakin swiped another button and the head of his Rebellion contact—a Bothan he knew only as RebJeb—appeared, looking even more angry than Obi-Wan.

“Skywalker! What the hell have you been doing? You and your daughter are meant to be in hiding, not running about Mos Eisley stealing ships! Did you even give a thought about the safety of the Rebellion, to what could happen to it if she were to be captured—"

“Now look here,” said Anakin, feeling his anger surge again. “I have done exactly what I was instructed to do; I have stayed here, repaired your shab hunks of junk, only sending Leia out when absolutely necessary. I have only done what’s best for the Rebellion, ever since I joined, even when it meant lying around here virtually imprisoned when everyone else is in danger. How dare you suggest that I—or my daughter—haven’t thought about what is best for the Rebellion?”

“Skywalker, now is not the time to air your complaints! We need to discuss—”

“Complaints? Complaints?” Anakin gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. “Let me tell you—” He stopped suddenly, hearing a heavy knock on the door.

“Skywalker, listen, the Rebellion—”

“Shut up! There’s someone at the door!”

“Residents of Homestead 3-1-2-5! Open up! In the name of the Emperor!” the metallic voice of a Stormtrooper echoed through the tiny homestead.

“Sithspit! Troopers!”

“Kriffing hell, Skywalker, hide! Don’t let them catch you! Contact again on your secure frequency—”

“I know! Get the hell out of here!” Anakin didn’t wait, but slammed a palm down on the comm link, shutting down the feed.

“Residents of 3-1-2-5! Open up! In the name of the Emperor! If you do not, we will enter forcefully!” The pounding grew more insistent, and Anakin took only one half of a second to grab Leia’s lightsaber from beneath her pillow before diving beneath her bed.

He heard the sound of the door being blasted open, and a few shots fired off accompanying the sound of heavy booted feet entering the homestead. It took only a few moments to pop open the entrance to their safe room, most of which was spent trying to find the hairline split in the floor that was indication of the hatch that hid the controls. Now for the more difficult part; the controls were hidden beneath Leia’s bed, but the actual entrance to the safe room was behind a panel in the bathroom, which he could see just a sliver of from his position in Leia’s room. He had to get there and into the room without attracting attention.

Anakin exhaled softly, watching the Stormtroopers pound back and forth across the main room of the homestead. Concentrating, he pulled on the Force, causing a loud sound to seem to emanate from the small storage closet just inside the door.

“What’s that?” barked a trooper, and they hurriedly formed up around the door, blasters at the ready. Anakin took advantage of this distraction, as he intended, and dove towards the bathroom, making it just as they opened fire on the closet. Shaking his head, he pried open the door further and crawled inside, then pulled the door shut behind him with one last peek outside as the firing ceased. The troopers had backed away from the closet, and there was a hint of a black cloak, a tremor in the Force-

He heard a hiss as the hydraulic lock sealed automatically, timer run out, and reluctantly keyed a code from beside the door that sealed it, making it impossible to open again unless the reversal was keyed in later. The tunnel behind the door was only just large enough for him to crawl through, so he began to make his way hunched over, glad that he had worn his trousers and shirt instead of the Jedi robes he occasionally donned for old times’ sake and cursing the age that had crept up on him and begun to make his knees protest creakily. His thoughts turned to the dark figure he'd seen; it felt the way the Dark Side of the Force did: temptingly powerful but purely evil. But there was no other Sith in the galaxy, save the Emperor and his apprentice, and _surely_ that hadn't been him...He could hear faint blaster fire from behind, and felt the vibrations of the troopers’ feet as they stomped through the house, overturning furniture with tell-tale crashes, looking for signs of who had lived in the homestead.

He shook his head—it would quickly become apparent who had lived there; he and Leia had made no effort to hide their identity at home, he had a few holonet photos of Padme saved on his bedside net screen, and there were a likely a few Rebellion missives lying around with “Skywalker” printed across them. But having been in hiding for nearly a year meant that there was no possibility of recent high-sec communications nor plans lying around; no chance that something that would be useful to the Empire in determining the Rebellion’s whereabouts or movements. Comm frequencies were wiped immediately; even if they checked with scanners they’d find no traces of the messages from RebJeb or Obi-Wan.

With the sounds of the troopers behind him growing fainter, Anakin knew he had to be close to the safe room. Reaching the end of the tunnel, he keyed in a third code into the panel and pushed into a large underground bunker. It was spartan in it’s furnishings, the only real decoration being the glass display case that held the White Knight suit fitted for Leia, but it was equipped with a special frequency comm that would enable him to contact the Rebellion without being picked up on Imperial scanners, and could sustain him, and Leia, technically, for several weeks if necessary. Setting Leia’s lightsaber on the comm center table, he checked that his own blade was still securely fastened to his belt—of course it was—and keyed in the frequency to reach the Rebellion. Time to figure out what was going on.


	11. Chapter 11

Leia felt a roll of unease in her stomach as the ship dropped out of hyperspace in the airspace around Tatooine. Something wasn’t right. She glanced at Luke and caught his eye by accident; his brow was furrowed, showing he felt the same, to her surprise. He was more perceptive than she had thought.

“Han—”

“Come on, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Han slammed a hand on the dash of the ship, and pointed wordlessly. A pair of Star Destroyers were positioned right above the coordinates she had given them for the best place to drop into atmo over her and Anakin’s homestead. Her spine prickled.

“Can we get past them?” Her knuckles were white on the back of Han’s seat as she leaned forward, looking intently at the Star Destroyers. Did the Empire already have her father? Did they know where he was? It had been hardly more than a hour or two but she knew, deep down, that that was enough. She felt her stomach churn again as Han answered.

“In this ship? Princess, every Imperial cruiser in the galaxy is looking for us—I feel sorry for anyone else flying a bird like this. We wouldn’t stand a chance of getting by without getting flagged and then—” here he cut off and she nodded tightly, understanding.

“We should try to get to the homestead under atmo, out of range of those destroyers. It should be getting dark at any rate, that might help us out.” Luke keyed in another set of coordinates, nearby but far enough that they would be out of range of the destroyers’ scanners.

“Alright,” agreed Han, who maneuvered the ship away from the Star Destroyers. “Let’s just fly casually, shall we?”

Once below the atmospheric level, however, they saw no sign of life, skimming over the desert and using minimal power. She could see Luke thought it was odd, and knew when they’d flown over before there had surely been constant signs of desert dwellers and those not welcome in Mos Eisley itself, and they weren’t much further out than they had been before.

“It’s too quiet,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “Something’s not right.”

“You don’t know that,” snapped Han. “Maybe they all just went to bed early.”

“Bed early?” she knew she sounded incredulous, and Han subsided, looking surly. He was apprehensive too, Leia could tell, and she couldn’t blame him.

“Maybe they’re just all at the auction; there’s usually entertainment in the evening, right?”

“Land here,” she ordered, not even bothering to answer Luke’s feeble suggestion. She didn’t blame for trying, but couldn’t muster enough energy to make him feel better. Han brought the ship down for a landing so quiet that she was, in truth, moderately impressed, though she immediately went back to struggling to keep her worry from overwhelming her, pulling on the Force to calm her they way Obi-Wan had taught her. They sat for a moment, the three of them in the dark and silent ship, unwilling or unable to confront the uneasiness that had gripped them.

“We’ve been living a few miles from here,” she said, breaking the silence. “We should go the rest of the way on foot.” Han and Luke nodded, then, without further speaking, the three left.


	12. Chapter 12

“So, you said you’ve lived here a year?” Luke walked beside Leia, glancing up every once and a while to check their surroundings. They’d been walking across the dunes for nearly an hour, Leia making her way confidently through the desert lit only by the full twin moons. Luke could tell they had to be getting closer, though; he could feel the anxiety mounting in his sister. He couldn’t explain how he felt it so keenly, only that he did.

It matched his own; despite everything, he had to acknowledge that he was almost more afraid to meet his father than flee from the Empire. The Empire he knew; he could avoid them, he knew how they worked, how they thought. But his father…he had no experience with such a thing. What if his father—one of the greatest Jedi Knights of the Old Republic—was disappointed in him? He didn’t think he could handle that. He’d rather be shot at. Leia adjusted her hood over her hair, apparently thinking, and he glanced at her surreptitiously. What kind of life had she been leading with their father? He knew that the Emperor had been chasing Anakin doggedly since he’d escaped with the other Jedi, and that his father was a known member of the Resistance. Had she been a part of it all? What adventures had she had, while he was forced to remain on Coruscant, a pawn in the Emperor’s Senate facade? And what did she know of him and his life with their mother?

“Yes.”

“Where were you before?”

“Naboo.”

“Naboo?” Luke stopped. “A year ago?”

“Yes, why?” Leia stopped too, looking back at him. Her face was shadowed by the blue hood she’d pulled up over her head, her eyes gleaming out.

“I was there a year ago! On a shadow trip—even my mother didn’t know—” he broke off, with a sudden realization. “I saw him, Leia. I saw…our father. On Naboo, while I was there.”

“What? How can that be? You said you didn’t know—”

“I didn’t! I didn’t know he was my father! It was a glimpse, nothing more, a hint—but I _knew_ it was Anakin Skywalker, I’d seen enough holonet footage through the Archives…I never told anyone. My mother didn’t know that I’d been gone, and Han,” he looked at the back of his best friend, a few paces ahead. “I didn’t think he’d believe me. The only reason Han hates the Empire is because it gets in his way.”

“You never told the Emperor?”

“What? No, of course not! I’ve hated the Emperor since I was old enough to know who he really was. My mother told me…but she warned me never to tell anyone that I knew the truth, and I didn’t understood the true reason why…there’s so much she kept a secret, so much I don’t understand at all, I realize now…”

“We’ll figure it out. There’s a lot I want to know, too,” said Leia, putting her hand on his arm.

“Hey you two, are we getting near or what? I thought we were trying to get there fast,” broke in Han loudly, turning around from a few meters ahead.

“ _Shh!_ ” said Leia, walking again and picking up her pace. “It’s just over this ridge—oh no.” She stopped.

“What? What do you—” It hit Luke, out of nowhere; a darkness. A sickening feeling that gripped his heart and made him feel as though he was going to be sick. He doubled over, gasping, and Han rushed back.

“Hey, kid- _kid_! What’s the matter?”

“It’s—there’s just something—”

“He can feel it too. The danger,” said Leia. “It feels like…I don’t know, a prickling on the back of your neck, a twist in your stomach—”

“No, no…” groaned Luke; it was becoming painful now, he thought he might really be sick. “I felt that—on the ship. When we saw—the—saw the Destroyers. This—this is—darkness—” He dropped to his knees, resting his forehead in the nighttime-cool sand.

“ _Darkness_?” Leia looked afraid and Han looked skeptical, but worried.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s never shown any sign of being able to use the Force until this morning, has he,” said Leia, seeming to ignore his question.

“The Force? What? No. I mean, he’s been living on Coruscant. Would he still be alive if he had?”

“Well that’s what he’s feeling now,” she said, worriedly glancing over her shoulder. “I just…I don’t know what exactly it is. I can sense the danger, I’ve always been able to, but darkness? I can’t sense what he’s feeling.”

“Come on, the _Force_? Isn’t that just mumbo jumbo the Empire made up to be able to kill people at random? There’s no mystical energy that gives power,” said Han. Luke groaned suddenly and Han crouched down, patting his back awkwardly.

“You saw what he did today and you don’t believe?”

“I don’t know what I saw, except my friend being a colossal laser brain. Which is nothing new, but—”

“He used the Force! That’s how he threw those troopers away from us—oh we don’t have time for this! We need to get to my father.”

“Can he help Luke?”

“I—”

“I—I think I’m okay,” panted Luke, pushing himself back onto his knees and toes. He looked pale and clammy still, his eyes a bit foggy, but the pain had passed.

“Luke,” began Leia, when suddenly a ship rose into the sky from behind the ridge. It hovered over them, a black and forbidding triangular silhouette blocking out the stars in the night sky, then with a high pitched whine gracefully ascended out of sight.

“That was an Imperial shuttle,” breathed Han.

“We need to go! Now!” said Leia, and Han for once didn’t answer back, but threw Luke’s arm over his shoulder and lifted him up. They made their way clumsily across the ledge, following Leia, who had unholstered her blaster and was gripping it tightly. Once over the top, they could see a small homestead, a blackened cluster of buildings in a small valley. Smoke was rising from the one furthest away on the opposite edge of the valley. “They took the ships,” she breathed, as Han and Luke reached her side. Luke pushed Han over slightly with a nod, showing his ability to walk on his own once more.

“What ships?”

“We were working as mechanics for the Rebellion,” she said. “There were a few ships here, ones we were repairing…and they took them.”

“The Empire?”

“It had to be. I knew we were too late,” she said desperately. “But I had hoped—”

“Is there any way he’s okay?” Han looked sympathetic for half a moment, and she looked at him in surprise.

“Of course! You didn’t think we had somewhere to hide if the Empire ever came? He ought to be just fine. I’m more worried that the Empire knows that we’ve been hiding out here. It’ll bring them to the Outer Rim and the Rebellion can’t afford that.”

“You knew—well then, _fine_.” Han sounded a bit angry, and she knew that it hadn’t been fair not to tell them that her father was likely okay. But she had needed to get back to him…

“Well let’s go find him now,” said Luke, sounding much stronger. “He can warn the Rebellion to stay away.”

Without a word, Leia began to make her way, sliding rather ungracefully at times, down the sandy ridge towards the homestead. Luke followed, with a grudging Han stomping behind him. They reached the entrance to the biggest of the dwellings, and Leia hurried down the steps and keyed in a code, causing the door to slide open with a grinding hiss that didn’t sound natural. Inside, the trio was greeted with a horrible mess. Tables overturned, papers torn and trampled underfoot—Luke quietly crouched and picked up a schematic of an engine, looking at it with an unreadable expression on his face. Leia walked through, looking a little cowed for the first time since he’d met her. An uncomfortable silence rested on them as Han let out a low whistle. A closet beside the door was smoking slightly, its contents a charred mess and its doors blasted off its hinges, and the rest of the room showed scorch marks where blasters had been fired. A couch had been seared in half in the center of the room by some unknown weapon. Leia disappeared into another room as Luke stood and turned back to Han.

“The Empire did this,” he said in a low voice. Han shook his head, recognizing the beginning of the familiar argument.

“Look, Luke, I hate the Empire. You know I do. But to take up against them? I could never do that—we could never do that. Smuggling is all I know, and it’s enough rebellion for me.”

“Han, look! Look what they did, and they surely couldn’t have known it was Anakin living here before they got here. How can you not be angry about this?”

“I _am_! But I’m smart enough to realize that all joining the Rebellion will do is put a target on my back.”

“Look around—”

“No, _you_ look around, Luke. Your father chose his fight, and this is what happened. I’m choosing mine, and you’ll choose yours the way you will.”

“And you won’t come with me if I choose differently?”

“I won’t. The fight against the Empire isn’t my fight. I don’t have a death wish, kid, you know that.”

“I do,” said Luke shortly, turning away, crumpling up the engine schematic in frustration. He and Han never agreed on the best way to fight the Empire; he hated sitting in apparent compliance while sneaking around behind their backs. What Han saw as necessity, he saw as imprisonment. He'd been working on how best to get away from Coruscant and join the Rebellion for nearly a year now, but as son of a prominent senator it was difficult to simply disappear. 

“Where is she, anyways?” Han said, looking towards the room where she’d disappeared. Leia had been gone for several minutes now.

“Probably found something,” replied Luke, kicking away more paper for his path. As he did, however, his boot slipped in—“ _Han!_ ”

“What?”

“Blood,” said Luke, an ominous feeling settling in his gut. “Fresh blood.”

“You don’t think—”

“Luke? Han?” Leia appeared at the door, and Luke was shaken to see how terrified she looked. She clutched the wall with one white-knuckled hand and gripped a silver cylinder in her other.

“What happened? Leia?” Luke took a step over the blood towards her, and she looked at him, her eyes wide, hardly seeing him.

“He’s gone.” She whispered hoarsely. “They took him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Term is starting, so expect roughly a chapter a week for a while! Thanks for sticking with this!


	13. Chapter 13

It was dark, and it hurt. Anakin groggily lifted his head and then froze, feeling a wide band of metal against his neck, a collar that buzzed slightly against the tender skin of his throat and kept him from lifting his head more than an inch up. Slowly, he leaned back, letting his head rest on the hard back behind him. He then moved to touch his eye—there was something crusted around it, keeping his right eye from opening more than a sliver—but found his arm wouldn’t move. He felt a thrill of panic—he really couldn’t move his arm, neither of them, _what had happened_ —but he forced himself to be calm. Whatever had happened, he had surely been in worse situations.

He was standing—or rather, was pinned in a standing position-against something cold, metallic. His legs were trapped in clamps that reached from ankle to groin, matching the wrist to shoulder imprisonment of his arms. Reaching out with the Force, he could sense nothing else in the darkness that surrounded him. Nothing alive, that was. He focused the Force then, reaching deep within and channeling towards the restraints that held his arms.

Just as he thought the clamps might release, the chamber was flooded with light and electricity coursed through the chair. He screamed—he couldn’t hold it back—his eyes wrenching open and head arching back, the collar pulsing against his throat, unable to control the quaking of his body that followed the impossible pain. It had lasted only a moment, but when it had finished, he hung, weakened, his mouth tasting metallic, burned. Something warm dripped into the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek and into his mouth, like tears that tasted of—blood. The comfort of the Force was a long ways away as the chamber snapped back into darkness.

 _Laughter._ Low, menacing, hardly a laugh and more like a grunt of triumph, it broke through the painful fog that had enveloped him. He had tried twice more to release himself, each time thinking that he might be able to withstand the pain until he was at least free of the restraints, each time being repulsed by surges of electricity that grew more and more agonizing. His muscles twitched of their own accord, his skin was scorched and fragile, and he'd fallen unconscious after each bout and awoken in even more pain than before. The final time, he had truly believed his heart might stop, and so he had given in. The blood from the wound above his eye had stopped flowing, but the injury had swollen now so that he really couldn’t open his eye any longer. And he _hurt_. Every inch of him, any time he took a breath, ached in pulsing waves. He hardly even cared that the collar around his throat choked him as his head hung forward; he didn’t have the strength to lift it away any longer. And that was when the laughter came.

Anakin cracked his good eye open, his vision blurring and spinning, so that it seemed there were two of the tall cloaked figures before him, and four of the white troopers who flanked him.

“So this is the mighty Anakin Skywalker,” the voice was guttural, scratching. “Release him,” ordered the voice, and the two—four?—troopers moved forward and did—something—behind Anakin. With a hiss, the restraints slid away from his arms and legs, and he fell forward, slumping limply onto the grated floor. He could faintly feel the hum of engines through the ground and knew he must be on a ship, and could still feel the buzz of the metal collar around his neck, fitted just tight enough to nearly be choking, but not quite.

“L-Leave....me..." he groaned, forcing his words through his cracked lips.

“Now why would I do that? The Emperor has requested your presence immediately,” replied the figure, crouching beside Anakin. Gripping Anakin’s hair, the figure pulled his head back. Anakin groaned as the collar bit into his throat and pain sliced through his skull. Vaguely he could see a shadowed visage, yellow eyes, a hint of red—but then the figure dropped his head. It clanged into the grate and Anakin moaned again. “Take him to the detention block and get him ready. We’ll be landing on Coruscant soon.” The figure stood and strode away.

The troopers picked up Anakin and unceremoniously threw his arms over their shoulders, dragging his limp body roughly out of the chamber and down the dimly lit hall. Helpless, mostly unconscious, Anakin didn’t resist, but let them drag him where they will. He was going to see the Emperor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a chapter a week. But it's the last day before term starts, so here's another one!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that semester kept me busier than I thought! But I've not given up yet-here's another chapter! Rogue One inspired me :)

“He’s gone?” Luke echoed Leia, his heart pounding. She hadn’t moved, clutching the edge of the door as though it was the only thing grounding her. He heard Han move behind him, and realized he had shifted to cover up the puddle of blood they had discovered.

“He—they—we, we have a safe room. Under the house, there’s a tunnel…that’s where we were to go, if the Empire ever came. It’s almost impossible to find, harder to get into once it’s sealed…but it was open. _Torn_ open. And when I went down there…” she shook her head. “It was destroyed. He obviously fought hard.”

“Show me,” said Luke. It was a mark of the seriousness of what had happened that she didn’t respond, only turned away and disappeared around the corner.

Exchanging a glance, Han and Luke followed. Passing a room, Luke glimpsed a bedroom, the walls papered in ship schematics, the bedding torn aside and thrown about the room as if someone had been searching for something. A mug of some sort of liquid had been shoved off the counter nearby and shattered, its cold contents puddling across the floor. Upon reaching the entrance, Luke thought personally that ‘open’ was too gentle of a description; an ugly gash had been cut through the wall with some sort of weapon that had left the edges melted and blackened. The panel that had been hidden had then been kicked in, revealing a small black tunnel. Luke imagined it would have been a well-hidden hideout within the house had the wall not been cut away. Leia had already knelt and crawled into the tunnel, and so he followed. It wasn’t a long crawl, but Luke was glad when it was over; he had never much liked tight, dark spaces.

When they left the tunnel, they were greeted with another scene of total destruction, but this one was worse somehow; it had clearly been the scene of a desperate battle. Scorch marks scarred all four walls, bits of furniture had been seared in half by whatever weapon had cut apart the wall above, and Luke realized that the only weapon he knew of with that kind of power was a lightsaber, like the vicious red weapon he’d seen the Emperor wield. There was one body in the center of the room; a stormtrooper lay like an ugly doll, an arm severed off and a hole burned into his chest. Luke could feel his stomach churn again uneasily, a shadow of the feeling that had hit him in the desert.

“I found his lightsaber, here,” Leia said, standing in the center of the destruction, and Luke felt his heart pound. His father’s lightsaber? “He would never have left it behind, if he’d had a choice, something must have happened to him!”

“Oh I don’t think there’s any doubt about that,” said Han flatly from behind Luke. He toed a blaster that was lying in halves by his feet. “The question is, what do we do now? The whole reason we came back was to warn Anakin, and we were too late.”

“Where is my lightsaber?” Leia ignored Han’s question, scanning the room. “It wasn’t in my room where I’d left it, Father must have grabbed it. But where could it be, then…”

“The Empire could have taken it,” Han pointed out. “It’s strange they didn’t take Anakin’s.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t what he could have done with mine.” Silence fell again, and Luke walked gingerly around the ruins of the rooms, looking for some clue as to the details of what had happened.

Nearly everything was destroyed; he wasn’t sure what he hoped to find. In the center of a pile of shattered glass lay the remnants of a white uniform; scorched and torn. Toeing it aside, he noticed a thin outline on the floor.

“Leia—” he crouched and felt around the outline. It was clearly a seam. Leia dodged debris and hurried to his side. “I think I found a hiding place.”

“ _Oh!_ Yes, Father could have hidden my lightsaber here…but where…” she turned and scanned the room.

“What are you doing?” Han looked up from where he was shifting the remains of a wall panel away from the body of another fallen trooper.

“The Rebellion architects who designed this tended to put hatches in one place and control pads in another, I thought maybe this would be the same.”

“Control pad—like this one?” Han pointed to a series of buttons that were raised in a notch in the wall above where the panel he was moving had been ripped out.

“Yes, maybe. Hit the blue one?” He reached over and did so, and the panel beneath Luke’s fingers slid open with a hiss. Inside, another silver cylinder sat, this one inlaid with gold. Beneath it was a thin holochip. Leia scooped up both.

“Your saber?” Luke asked. She nodded, attaching it to her belt, and he felt a brief flicker of jealousy. She had a lightsaber!

Walking over to a slot on the wall beneath the controls that had opened the compartment, she slid in the holochip. A blue, flickering image appeared, of a grizzled man with a still-young face and a scar across his right eye.

“Father,” she whispered, as the image spoke.

“Leia! If you’re watching this, it means bad news. I’ve been captured, or worse. This is for you, so you know what to do. By the way, I’ve had the Rebellion on my tail about whatever happened in Mos Eisley earlier, so be prepared for a lecture the next time you see Obi-Wan.” Here the image grimaced, then turned grim again, and she smiled ruefully. “In fact, be prepared, Leia. Things are about to get a lot worse. You need to get to the Rebellion, they’re the only thing that matters now. They’re the only ones who can stop the Empire. Your mother and I had a plan, one that we devised a long time ago, when you and your brother were just children…you need to find him, Leia. I received a message from your mother that said that Luke is coming to Tatooine. You must find him, and bring him to Obi-Wan. He’ll know what to do next. Obi-Wan is still right where we left him, so find your brother and hurry there as fast as you can. No matter what happens to me, Leia, just remember—the Force will be with you. Always.”

“That—that was our father?” Luke stared at where the image had been. It was hard to accept the familiar face of the man he'd seen in so many archives and on so many wanted posters as his father. 

“Yes,” she replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And he is always like that,” she added. “So glib in the face of danger. It used to drive Uncle Ben mad.”

“Uncle Ben?” Luke looked at her.

“Uncle Ben—Obi-Wan! Did Padme never tell you? Obi-Wan Kenobi was Father’s Jedi Master and a close friend. He helped train me, as well…He’s been in hiding for several months, now, on Camino. He has friends from the war there who shelter him. That’s where Father wants us to go now, and we have to leave, soon.”

“Camino?” Luke looked at her. “That was the birth place of the storm troopers, back during the Clone Wars…how can that be safe? The Emperor has kept it under watch for years, monitoring it! He’s afraid that someone would use the cloning tech there to destroy the Empire. Only trade ships can go in and out, now.”

“I—I don’t know! All I know is he’s there,” she said, looking lost. “And we need to get there.”

"You would need a trade ship?” Han spoke up from behind them, and they both turned to him. He was hefting a blaster in his hands, testing the weight.

“Yes. They only allow trade ships and strictly registered vessels to enter the airspace around Camino. It was the subject of a lot of debate in the Senate a few years ago, especially because the ambassadors of Camino knew they were losing their livelihood. But the Emperor wouldn’t allow it, so the talks were essentially pointless.” Luke shook his head. “I don’t know how Anakin planned for us to get there; I don't even know how Obi-Wan Kenobi could have gotten there.”

“I think I know a guy who could help you,” said Han, slinging the blaster over his shoulder. “Grab your bags, Princess. Let’s go visit an old friend of mine.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

The Senate had been in session for far longer than Padme had anticipated when she got the message. It set her wristband to humming, and she quickly tapped it to quiet it, glancing around to see if any others in her party had noticed the signal. Most were sitting with glazed expressions, watching the proceedings below; the Dugs had been engaged in a debate with the Corellians since the early hours of the session, arguing over mineral rights in the southern reaches of the Outer Rim that neither of them had any legitimate claim to.

This was the state of the Imperial Senate; it was a useless body that spent its hours in debate over meaningless questions, steered away from any serious topics by the Emperor, who often didn’t even attend the sessions—perks of being a dictator, Padme thought irritably. She nodded to Kor’eth, the only member of her party conscious enough to notice when she stood and left the pod, then excused herself from her Imperial Guard tail to slip into the ladies room. It was hardly private enough in here to receive an encoded message, but it would have to do; the Rebellion contacted her on this frequency only in the most dire of circumstances, and she needed to respond immediately.

She tapped the wristband and a holographic image arose of a handful of characters, blinking red. It was the highest level code; the letters changed with a speed that was nearly impossible to decode without the key, even for droids codebreakers. She entered the key-she knew it by heart, of course, it could never be written down-  _“Empire breached Skywalker security on Tatooine, will update on frequency.”_ Her breath caught and she grabbed the counter for support, heart pounding. Empire breached….the Empire had breached…she took a deep breath. They hadn’t said captured or killed; there was still a chance they had gotten away. And she’d been regularly checking the holonets and hadn’t seen anything about Luke and Leia other than the original broadcast.

“Acknowledge,” she said shakily. The band blinked in response, and the message disappeared without a trace. She looked up into the wide mirrors that covered the wall and tried to steady her breathing. Her face was hidden behind a layer of white makeup, a necessity she’d found from her days as Queen to help her hide her true emotions, and it worked this time as well as all the others—there was no paleness or tell-tale flush to betray her. She had to return to the Senate session as if nothing had happened, she could not collapse now, they had known the danger all along, and it was possible that her husband was still free. She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, and straightened up. Of course she would carry on; she had done so each time before.

Patting her skirts, she left the bathroom and ran square into a platoon of stormtroopers dragging a prisoner between them. She halted, peering between the troopers, wondering what poor soul was to handed over to the Emperor this time—and suddenly her blood turned to ice. She knew that curly head.

“ _An_ —" she caught herself, pressing her lips together and clenching her fists till her nails bit into her palm. She couldn’t let them know she still cared. She had to be hard as Kyber crystal, even though her heart was breaking.

“Senator,” the head of the trooper squadron inclined his head towards her, apparently hearing the beginning of her comment. “Do you need to return to session?”

“Yes, please,” she said, raising her voice sharply. “If you would move your prisoner.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded, and made a sharp gesture. They dragged the slumped figure out of her path, and she swept by, her own red-cloaked guards following. She couldn’t stop herself from one final glance as she passed, however, just as he raised his head. She felt tears well as she looked, for the first time in fifteen years, into the eyes of the man she loved.

Anakin looked haggard, wounded, but there was recognition in his eyes as he saw her, and she hoped he could see in her own eyes what she was feeling as she swept past, face settling into her usual cold gaze. She refused to turn and look back as she reentered the Senate, but she listened until the clanking of feet was far out of earshot. The rest of the session passed painfully slow, and she was almost relieved when a second message buzzed at her wristband—till she saw who it was from. The Emperor’s figure arose, blue and flickering, from her wrist.

“Senator Amidala, your presence is requested immediately, come to my chambers.”

“Yes, Emperor,” she said softly. She exchanged a look with Kor’eth, who had looked up when she’d opened the message. “I won’t be returning today,” she said, and he nodded in reply. She could feel his eyes watching as she left the pod. Padme received another encoded message as she walked to the Emperor’s chambers, and she paused for a moment to erase it from her personal frequency; she knew what the message would likely hold—the message that Anakin had been captured—and couldn’t afford to have it blinking while she was meeting with the Emperor. She waited while her guards pressed into the keypad the code that allowed her into the elevator that would take her up to the Emperor’s chambers, and stood silently while they ascended.

This would be the ultimate test; she knew what was coming. The Emperor would taunt her with Anakin’s capture, and she couldn’t allow him to know how much it would hurt her. He could have no doubts about her loyalties, not at this crucial moment for the Rebellion, even if it meant she had to remain silent while they tortured Anakin or—well, she wasn’t certain she could stand by if the Emperor was going to kill him, but she refused to entertain the thought. They were so close to being strong enough to take the fight to the Empire, she couldn’t afford to fail now. The loss of Anakin would be enough of a blow, and the Rebellion thrived off of the information she provided them. She had to remain strong. For Luke, for Leia, for the twenty years her family had lost, for the lives that had been lost across the galaxy, for the democracy she had loved. Had to—


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been trapped in the airport thanks to a flight delay, but hey, here's another chapter! Feel free to let me know what you think.

The door hissed open, shining a rectangle of light into the dim chamber. It was a cavernous, dark space, lit only by dim light that entered through tinted windows; Anakin, finally beginning to recover from the electric restraints, lifted his head and tried to make sense of the darkness around him. There were wide windows on the far wall, looking out at the reddish atmospheric haze that hovered above the city that made up the surface of Coruscant, and the silhouette of a throne-like chair stood stark against them, pure black shadow against the haze behind. The rest of the room was lost to shadow; all he could make out was arching black steel supports that stretched up beyond his vision. The polished floor was traced with silver; there was a wide band beneath his knees, reflecting his face. He hoped that the image he saw was badly distorted; it wasn’t a pretty face that looked back at him.

“Welcome, Senator,” the gravelly voice of the Emperor emitted from the throne, and Anakin focused on the door as thin runway lights lit up across the chambers. Padme stood in the doorway, her face impassive as stone and hidden behind a layer of makeup as ornate as when she had been queen. Her gown was black and a vibrant purple, and her dark hair was only just beginning to frost, though she hid it well behind several bands of gold and an elaborate updo. He felt a surge of emotion—anger, sadness, regret, he wasn’t sure which—that they had grown old apart from one another because of the evil creature in the throne ahead of them. Padme hardly spared him a glance as she passed, flanked by four Imperial Guards in red. He bit his tongue—he knew what her game was, it was textbook. She had to act as though she didn’t care about him in the slightest, to ensure the Emperor didn’t suspect how deep her connection to him and to the Rebellion still was. He just wish it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Emperor,” her voice was more weary than he remembered, but then, it _had_ been 15 years. “You summoned me? The Senate is still in session-”

“Yes, yes. I thought it might…. _interest_ you to see who we found hiding out in Tatooine. Your old companion, Skywalker.” The lights flickered on around Anakin, and his stormtrooper guards hauled him to his feet. He was grateful to realize he could stand at last, and held his head high as they pushed him forward to stand in front of Padme and the Emperor.

“Why would it interest me? I have no connection to Anakin anymore,” she asked. Even now, Anakin had to marvel at how expressionless her voice was. He almost believed it, himself.

“Not even if he knew where your son was?”

“How could he?” There was a guarded quality to her question this time. She was hesitant at the mention of Luke's name, he noticed. 

“Wasn’t Luke on Tatooine when he revealed himself to be a traitor to the Empire? Perhaps he ran into Skywalker while there. Perhaps, a meeting with his father caused his loyalties to falter.” Anakin slanted a glance at Padme. 

“My son has never faltered in his loyalties,” replied Padme coldly. “And he certainly would not have been influenced by his father. We didn’t know he was on Tatooine. Luke was sent to visit an auction on planet and at that point revealed his… _connection_ to the Force.” Anakin’s heart jumped. His son _had_ been on Tatooine, just as the message had said! Why hadn't he—he suddenly thought of the boy in the holonet broadcasts, the Force-potential with his daughter who Obi-Wan had suggested would be of high value to the Rebellion if they could find him. How they would be surprised when they realized it was the second Skywalker twin...he laughed suddenly, picturing RebJeb’s incredulous expression, and Obi-Wan's exasperated but pleased smile. They would assume he was just as mad as his father and sister. Padme and the Emperor looked at him, and he caught for the briefest second a flash of exasperated humor in his wife’s eyes.

“Something amusing, Skywalker?” snapped the Emperor.

“My son is still out of your grasp,” he replied. “What’s not to laugh about?”

“We shall see,” the Emperor growled. “Senator, you maintain you have had no contact with this man or his rebel friends, do you?”

“My Emperor,” she said evenly. “You know my loyalties have never faltered. Of course I haven’t.” Anakin grimaced, disliking the words she had to speak.

“It’s true,” he spoke up. “If she had, I wouldn’t be here. Or rather, _she_ wouldn’t be here.” Once again the two of them looked at him, and the Emperor’s expression was filled with loathing.

“Silence,” he hissed.

“I’m merely telling you what I’m sure you already know, Chancellor,” Anakin replied, trying to pick what would turn the Emperor’s attention off of Padme. Even cuffed, even though he knew she could handle herself better than anyone, he wanted to protect her.

“Then let us turn to what I don’t know,” the Emperor hissed. “Where is the Rebellion’s hidden base?”

“Space,” Anakin replied brokenly, as though revealing a big secret. “It’s in space.”

“ _Fool,_ ” hissed the Emperor. “Do you not know what I can do?” Briefly Anakin reflected that mouthing off to the Sith Lord was exactly the type of thing Obi-Wan would have scolded him for during his apprentice days, then decided it was exactly what was needed.

“Well—” he began, then was staggered by pain racking through his still-weakened body. Flashes of blue lightening crackled around his vision—all he could think was to hide and shield his body from the pain, but there was no escape—he couldn’t stop himself from crying out—

As soon as it had come, the crackling pain was gone, and Anakin lay collapsed on the floor, breathing hard and moaning uncontrollably. Padme hadn’t moved, her expression like stone, though he thought fuzzily from the way her lips were a thin line in her white face that she was using every ounce of the control she had worked so hard to master to do her duty and stay silent.

“Do you see now, Skywalker? If your _wife_ does not care what happens to you, how do you expect that I shall? I, who ordered my apprentice to bring you here for the sole purpose of watching your Rebellion fall in agony?”

“Did—did a shab job,” rasped Anakin. “Haven’t—seen—it fall—yet.”

“Not yet, no…” The Emperor laughed darkly as he produced another wave of blue lightening, leaving Anakin fully helpless, and blearily thinking between waves of pain that maybe Obi-Wan had a point every once and a while.


	17. Chapter 17

“Where are we going again, Han?” Luke threw a series of switches on the left corner of the ship’s dash as a high-pitched whine alerted them to the approach of their destination.

“Maz Kanata’s. I have a friend there who tends to hang around there; he has a pretty distinctive trading business. I think he should be able to help you get onto Camino.”

“Help us? What about you, aren’t you coming with us?” Leia leaned forward from her seat behind Luke, looking at Han with confusion furrowing her brow. Luke’s stomach sank. He had a feeling he knew what Han was about to say.

“Come _with_ you?” Han sounded incredulous. “Look Princess, I didn’t sign up for this, I thought I was going for a joyride with a friends to pick up a few parts and make some easy money, not get caught up in some battle against the Empire. I live by flying under the radar, and I don’t intend to change that now, and certainly not for you.”

“Well—terribly sorry to have butted in on your happy life!” snapped Leia. Luke grimaced; Han’s sarcastic tone was enough to annoy even him. “Guess you’ll just drop us off and continue on in your stolen freighter, won’t you?”

“Seems legit to me.” replied Han uncaringly. “I can deal with a stolen freighter. But I never signed up to be fugitive. There’s no money in that.”

“No— _no money_?” Leia’s tone scathing. “Well if that’s the way you like it. Quite the mercenary, your friend is,” she shot at Luke, before stomping out of the cockpit, lightsabers swinging from her belt.

“Thanks for that,” Luke said irritably.

“Your sister is going to drive me crazy,” Han replied. “Who does she think she is?”

“You could come with us, Han. If this person we’re going to see is your friend, why don’t you stick with us? It's a good cause, and I’m sure there’s some way we could make it worth your while—"

“Beyond fighting the Empire, you mean. No way kid, not a chance. Like I told the princess; I’ve survived this long because I fly under the radar. Running straight to one of the most wanted men in the galaxy is not staying under the radar in the slightest.”

“No, you’re right,” Luke admitted. "I just wish you'd change your mind." He and Han had had this argument dozens of times, while Luke tried to convince him to join the Rebellion with him. Because the truth was, Luke wasn’t sure there was anyone he trusted more than Han, despite, as Leia called them, his mercenary qualities. Han’s reluctance was part of why Luke hadn’t left yet. 

“We’re here,” Han pulled a lever, and the ship dropped out of hyperspace above a brilliantly green planet. They passed through the atmosphere smoothly and dived down to fly above a thick, rich forest, approaching a wide lake with a large waterfall at the far side. Luke could just see the top of a stone building over the tops of the trees as Han brought the ship down for a landing. “Now, be forewarned: Maz probably won’t want Chewie to leave. She has this funny idea that he’s her boyfriend, although I’ve never heard Chewie acknowledge it.” Han chuckled to himself as the three headed down the gangway. Leia seemed a little stiff—she was probably still upset about Han’s reluctance to commit, Luke thought, besides being worried about Anakin.

With a pang, he thought of his mother. He was sure that the Emperor would use his actions in the marketplace as a weapon against her, trying to reveal how deeply she was connected to the Rebellion, and he never regretted his newfound ability more than when he thought about that. He wondered what the Empire was doing with Anakin, too, if they had taken him straight to the Emperor. Despite all of it, though, he was thrilled to finally be taking action. For so long the battle against the Empire had felt like something he could never truly be a part of, being the son of a Senator with no father—but everything had changed in an instant, and he had a father and a legacy to live up to and a power bursting within him that he could barely comprehend. And the Rebellion was waiting. They broke the tree line and approached a huge step pyramid that was topped by colorful flags. In the center of a courtyard in front of the pyramid was a towering statue; Luke craned his neck back to look up at it as they passed. He didn’t recognize the figure on the plinth; he’d never seen anything like it. Loud, jaunty music emanating from the open doorway, and Luke couldn’t help slanting a glance at Leia as they entered. She looked unfazed; clearly new places were no source of wonder for her.

Steeling himself, Luke tried to match her disinterest, but could hardly help himself; they had entered a world that was similar to the bars Han had taken him to in the underworld of Coruscant, but yet impossibly different. There would be danger of his being recognized here, he realized, gazing around. In the far corner there was a band—the source of the music they’d heard—composed entirely of alien species he’d never seen before, despite living beside the Imperial Senate his whole life. The cavernous room—whose ceiling stretched up till it narrowed to an open square of blue sky at the top of the pyramid—was covered in a dazzling array of posters and tapestries and ornaments, and crammed full of tables and chairs. A bar took up the place of honor in the center of the room, its countertops gleaming silver and reflecting the colorful bottles lined up on the shelves behind them. The sound of laughter and talking and shouting in a hundred different languages made up the background accompaniment to the band, coming from a staggering variety of races and alien species in every mode of dress and drinking cocktails Luke had only heard of in the wildest of bars.

“Han Solo!” The bar fell silent, every head turned towards a short figure at the far end of the room. Luke glanced at Han, eyebrows raised, and heard Leia let out an irritated sigh. Han had a very fixed smile on his face—half genuine, Luke could tell, but also very wry.

“Hello, Maz,” said Han loudly, with a mock salute. The bar returned to its state of loud noise, and Han, Luke, and Leia waited patiently at the door for the short figure to make its way through the crowds to them. As she approached, Luke studied her surreptitiously. She had a humanoid figure, but was short, wizened, and her skin was a deep orange color. Hairless, but she wore a hat over it and it didn’t seem unnatural. Her eyes were the most fascinating thing about her—they were magnified behind thick convex lenses with metal frames, making them appear too big for her round face. She had a kind, no-nonsense smile, though, and Luke could feel a sense of—well, of something good about her. A positive force that reassured him.

“How come it’s taken you so long to come visit me again? And who is this that you bring me?”

“Maz, this is my friend Luke Naberrie, you remember I've mentioned him before?” Maz nodded sagely, peering at Luke. He tried for a friendly smile, but wasn’t sure if it came out believable, despite his feelings. It also amused him that Han didn’t even blink at using his old surname. Nothing had changed for him, it seemed.

“Luke…Naberrie, is it?” She seemed more to be musing aloud, and nodded again.

“Yes. And this is…well, this is Leia Skywalker.” Leia glared at him, obviously upset that he had given away her real name, and Maz laughed.

“Don’t glare at him, child, I knew who you were. Your father brought you here when you were small, and you still haven’t lost the look in your eye. Where is your father? I wouldn’t have expected you to be parted from him.”

“He was taken by the Empire.” Leia’s surprise at Maz’s recognition of her turned to grimness. “We’re here following a message from him.”

“That is worrisome news indeed,” said Maz. “The Rebellion needs its Jedi.”

“Well, that’s part of why we’re here,” said Han. “They need to go pick up one. On Camino.” Maz looked up at him fast, her eyes narrowing.

“You want my boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Now, Maz, don’t get all twisted, they just need to borrow him.”

“They?”

“Yes. _They._ ”

“Hmmm.” She had a knowing look in her eyes as she turned away from them. “Well, he’s at his usual table. Don’t convince him to leave me for too long.”

“Thanks, Maz.” Han turned and gestured to Luke and Leia. “Come on. He’ll be this way.”

“Who is this exactly that we’re meeting? Can we trust him?”

“Of course we can, he’s an old pal of mine, I've done a lot of business with him over the years.”

“Yes, but—”

“He’s _fine_. Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

“Now look here, this is serious! My father has been captured by the Empire, and getting to Obi-Wan Kenobi is our only hope of finding the location of Rebellion’s base and the people who can get him back. They need my father, and so we need to be careful and make sure we aren’t going to jeopardize his best chance at rescue!”

“I said _don’t worry about it!_  We go way back, Chewie ’n me. I’d trust him with my life.” Han and Leia glared at each other for a full minute, then Han turned and carelessly stomped off through the crowd.

“That doesn’t mean much,” muttered Leia mutinously at his back before following. Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. It looked like Han might have finally met his match. He followed Leia past a table of Dugs arguing over a table full of speeder parts, and what looked like a minor Hutt ominously sipping a drink that was an impossible shade of green, surrounded by three alien women in skimpy leather regalia. When they arrived, Han was already seated at the table across from a Wookie wearing an armored ammunition sling. Leia slid into the bench beside Han, forcing him to scoot unceremoniously over next to the Wookie to make room for her, and Luke pulled up a chair.

“Hey, Chewie. Found you a commission, old man.” Chewie roared and Luke raised his eyebrows. This was going to be interesting.


	18. Chapter 18

Leia sipped her drink and tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Han had ordered the round, as part of the negotiations with Chewbacca, the Wookie pilot who was supposedly the key to she and Luke getting onto Camino to find Obi-Wan, and it was positively choking. So far in the negotiations, the Wookie seemed skeptical of Han’s offers. Or rather, his tone was skeptical. Or was it? Leia didn’t speak Wookie, and she was already frustrated with the big hairy carpet’s roaring and positively itching to leave. Every second they wasted, the Empire was doing _Sith_ knew what to her father, and the Rebellion was waiting…for the hundredth time, she cursed her father’s Rebellion contacts, who had decided that the location of the Rebel base was to be given out on a strict “need-to-know” basis and further chosen to not include her in that category. Had no one thought that this could be a possibility? _No,_ she thought bitterly. They all had assumed that it would be her who would be captured, if their carefully-laid plans ever went awry. Not her father, the consummate survivor, the battle-hardened hero, the best pilot in the galaxy and fearless Jedi Master. She took another sip of the drink, just as the Wookie let loose an angry-sounding roar, causing her to choke and splutter, wiping the acid blue liquid off the table with her sleeve. 

“Okay okay _okay_!” swore Han, throwing his hands up in disgust. 

“Look, Han, if he doesn’t want to help,” Luke, who appeared to Leia to be the epitome of calm _and_ had finished his drink with out an eye twitch to boot, leaned forward and shook his head. “Tell him we’re sorry to have bothered him, Leia and I will find someone else.” And that was another thing, thought Leia. How could Luke accept so willingly the fact that his friend was so unwilling to help him? It took a level of understanding that Leia doubted she would ever attain. Or maybe Luke was just not passionate enough about the Rebellion. After all, he had stayed with Padme on Coruscant for how long? She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. 

“No, it’s not that, he’d accept the payment you offered, it’s more he just isn’t sure he can get through, Camino isn’t a realistic place to sell sunfruit—or weapons, which is what he really smuggles—and he doesn’t think you could make it through the blockade and he doesn’t want to risk losing his ship.” Chewie roared in agreement. 

“Risk losing his—tell him if he helps us he won’t have to worry about the Empire ever going after him! How can he pass this up?” Leia tried to keep her emotions in check, calming herself in the Force the way Anakin had taught her, but it was difficult. The Wookie roared at her.

“He says it’s a good point but not any consolation if they catch him now.” 

“Han! Han, tell him I will make sure that he’ll be covered. My mother is a Senator, she can ensure that he is reimbursed. I’ve done it before; made it look like a case where the Empire has to repay the loss, no matter what the situation was. That way, he knows he’ll be alright, no matter what. Tell him as soon as we’re in the air I’ll send a message to my mother and cover him.” Han shot Luke an appraising look then glanced at Chewie to see how he would respond. The Wookie roared in approval, and Han grinned.

“Looks like you’ve found yourself a trade ship, kid,” he said, and Luke grinned shyly. Leia jumped about a foot when Maz’s voice emanated from her shoulder.

“So you convinced my boyfriend to take you to Camino. A true son of Padme Amidala, I don’t doubt. Now—” Suddenly, shouting emanated from the entrance. Leia leaned around Luke to see a commotion at the door—several tables of patrons were fleeing, several others were charging the door, there was general sounds of a bar fight—then, an explosion and the sound of blaster fire and the clacking footsteps of stormtroopers as they poured through the entrance. 

“There!” shouted one, gesturing at where they were sitting. 

“Go!” shouted Maz as the troopers headed for their table at the back, firing at anyone who got in their way or tried to hinder them. “And may the Force be with you!” The noise was deafening, and Leia felt her instincts kick in. 

“You heard her, flyboy!” she shouted, smacking Han on the upper arm. He glared at her as Chewbacca roared and bolted to his feet, grabbing a huge laser crossbow and returning fire as Luke ducked and rolled out of his chair, landing on his feet, crouched. Leia ducked at the return fire from the troopers, and Chewie roared again.

“He says to follow him, he’ll lead you to his ship!” shouted Han at her. 

“RUN THEN!” She yelled at the Wookie, who took off just as the first trooper reached their table. Instinctively, Leia unholstered her blaster and shot, but the troopers were too close now; dropping it she grabbed her lightsaber off her belt. Luke had already followed Chewie, and Han had dove over the top of the booth and out of sight, so she took one final swing with the glowing yellow blade—severing an arm—and ran after Chewie out of the central room of the bar, her braid thwacking against her back and her mouth dry. 

Chewie and Luke had halted by a wide hangar door, waiting for her; when she rounded the corner, the Wookie hit a button and the door slid open with a hiss, allowing them to enter. They ran among the ships, Chewie occasionally firing behind them at the troopers who were shooting at them from the corridor they’d run through. They were headed towards the largest ship in the hangar, a freighter by the looks of it—Leia briefly hoped it was faster than its lumbering size suggested it might be—then suddenly they were surrounded. Chewie roared again, firing madly, and Leia severed another arm as Luke ducked and took out a trooper with a street-fighting move. 

“Luke, here!” she shouted, realizing her brother was weaponless. She unhooked Anakin’s lightsaber from her belt and tossed it to him. In a flash, he had flicked it on, and swung, joining the fray, the blue blade humming in concert with Leia’s own saber. 

But the troopers kept coming; no matter how many they took down, they were still surrounded, and Leia was quickly losing hope that they could reach Chewbacca’s ship. Swinging her blade in a wide arc, she parried several blaster bolts, then heard horrendous screeching of metal on metal from behind her, followed by horrible yelling. Wheeling, she was momentarily blinded by bright daylight coming from the giant hanger doors that were slowly creaking open. A figure was running towards them, yelling. 

“Han!” Shouted Luke, and she recognized the manic figure sprinting at them.

“Idiot!” she shouted, whirling and brandishing her lightsaber suddenly to keep the troopers on her side at bay and shocked that Han would join the fray so willingly. Chewbacca roared loudly. Blasting his way through, Han carved a path through the stormtroopers and joined them.

“On my count—follow me! I’ve got our ship—Chewie has his permits—we’ll figure something out!” shouted Han in pieces, firing all the while. 

“One!” Leia slashed at a braver stormtrooper who had reached out and tried to grab her. 

“Two!” Luke wielded Anakin’s saber with a heavy hand, but he had raw talent, she could tell. 

“Three!” Han started up his horrible yelling again, and took off towards the hangar door again, and Leia followed with a final parry. As he ran beneath the door, Leia saw him reach up and hit a panel on the wall, and the screeching began again as the heavy metal door began to close. She picked up her speed, and the four of them quickly outpaced the troopers, Leia and Luke still reaching back to deflect blaster bolts that got too close. They had made it onto the landing field where they had left their stolen ship when the door slammed closed loudly behind them, trapping a majority of the slower stormtroopers in the hangar. There were still a few troopers on the field; Leia deflected a bolt that would have easily hit her brother in the back as they ran up the gangway. Halfway up, Leia paused to turn and aim some of the deflected bolts back at the shooters, trying to slow them down. As she turned back, she caught sight of a faded name painted on the side of the ship: the _Millennium Falcon_. Shaking her head, she sprinted up the gangway, followed by Chewie, who had been returning fire with her. 

“Go! _Go_ —gogogogogogo!” She shouted up the corridor as she scrambled down the ladder into her gunner’s pod. She could hear the engines whine, and the ship lifted off, a hundred times smoother than during their wild escape from Mos Eisley. 

“Everyone be ready; I’m going to make the jump as soon as we break atmo,” exclaimed Han over the comm system. Leia could hear Chewie roar in agreement from the other gunner pod as she primed the guns, scanning for TIE fighters. 

“Not a good idea!” She heard Luke shout over the comm.

“Too late, kid,” replied Han, then they had risen above the treetops and were headed for the sky. Leia fired off a few shots at the Imperial transport ship that had brought the troopers to the ground, landing a few scorch marks on it’s broad side, but there were no Imperial fighters as they cleared atmo. 

“Here we go!” she could hear Han pull the hyperdrive and the stars streaked around her.

“Well, I guess you came with us in the end,” she couldn’t resist saying. 


	19. Chapter 19

Senator Padme Amidala graciously inclined her head at a passing dignitary from H’ngu and mentally monitored her headpiece; it wasn’t sliding again, thank goodness. The dinner party for the arrival of the delegation from H’ngu—who had retracted their party from the Senate several years ago due to an offense that the Emperor himself had been forced to visit to repair—was a momentous occasion, and was three quarters of the way done. She only had to endure one more speech and a final bubble dance before the endless night was over. Smiling and exchanging a few words with another delegate, she resumed her seat and took a sip from the glass she had left when she’d stood to make a final round of the room before the end of the entertainment. She needed it.

In truth, Padme wasn’t certain how she had made it through the night with Anakin’s screams echoing in her mind. It had been four days since the Empire had captured Anakin and brought her husband back to her, and every night the Emperor had called her to watch him interrogate Anakin. He had held up so well, as to be expected, full of sarcastic quips that belied the agony she knew he was in as the Emperor racked him over and over again with the strange blue electricity the Sith Lord commanded, or with the next torture that he devised. She had maintained her impassive facade well, but his screams haunted her. She hadn’t slept since the first night. And now she was terrified for her son and daughter; the Emperor had been especially furious the night before, upon receiving news that fugitives matching their description had escaped once again from a bar in the Northern System. Padme couldn’t imagine what they were doing, but her heart had nearly stopped when she had heard the news. The Rebellion hadn’t contacted her in days, her son and daughter were racing across the galaxy for their lives, she was helpless, left only to smile alone, and Anakin was screaming in her memory.

Wincing, she put her head in her hands for a moment, then sat up and resumed her gracious smile. Suddenly, her comm link beeped at her from her wrist, and she put her glass down with a force that caused the silvery purple liquid inside the slosh dangerously. Rising, she nodded at her retinue, and made her way to the corridor outside the crystal dining room where the dinner had been held.

“Yes, Emperor?” she asked woodenly, opening the frequency.

“Senator, come to my landing pad. We are leaving.” Padme blinked. 

“Emperor, the dinner is almost finished, if you could but wait—”

“Make your excuses, Senator, and come without delay.”

“Very well,” she replied, and the link closed. Taking a deep breath, she returned to the dining room and made her way to the side of the head diplomat of H’ngu, whispering in his ear. The head of the delegation was a quiet Rebellion supporter, and gave her a sympathetic look as he nodded at her, allowing her make her excuses. She left with a final, gracious curtsy, and quickly made her way to her chambers. With nimble fingers, she typed in a signal to her Rebellion contacts that would put them on a higher alert level. The Emperor rarely left Coruscant, and never requested her to accompany him; something big was happening. Then she swept out, accompanied by her Imperial Guard, who had been stationed outside her chambers.

As she rode in the lift towards where the Emperor’s personal landing pad awaited, she could see her reflection in the glass. She had chosen to wear a deep blue gown with a straight neckline and a heavily embroidered orange-gold brocade coat over it, and her hair was done up in a series of complicated knots, with a a gold headpiece that she didn’t trust at all fixed to the back of her hair. Around her neck was a choker made of wide bands of gold and silver that were connected in the center by a roaring lion pendant whose mane turned to ivy. It had been a gift from the Queen of H’ngu, with whom she had been close friends with at school, when she and Anakin had visited years before. She had foregone some of the heavier makeup and now regretted it; in the glass she looked scared and she couldn’t afford that. She watched the lights of the city pass through her reflection, calming herself. Padme had never been truly Force-sensitive, but she reached out for a moment for the comfort she sometimes found outside herself. The lift beeped, and she closed her eyes, listening to the hiss as the hydraulics slid open the doors, and the sounds of the engines of the Emperor’s waiting ship flooding into the lift. She opened them again and stepped out, steeling herself as she had trained herself to do. She had lasted this long, what could break her now?

The Emperor stood, hunched and insidious, at the foot of the gangway, watching her approach with an unreadable expression in his bloodshot yellow eyes.

“Good, good, Senator, come.” He turned and entered the ship, Padme following. The center of the cruiser was modeled after his chambers on Coruscant, with a wide sweeping view of the stars from the windows that made up the front of the ship and a throne-like seat in the center. The Emperor settled himself in the throne, and Padme took a seat in the hard black chairs arranged in a circle around him a few steps away, wishing he would tell her what was going on or dismiss her so she could get away from him. There was a roar as the ship took off; as they rose above the glittering lights of Coruscant, Padme couldn’t help but feel a thrill of fear. There was something going on here, more than what her network had been able to discover. Anakin being captured had changed the stage, and she was no longer in control the way she had once been. The web of secrecy she had so long kept woven around herself and Luke was fraying, tearing in places, and she was worried that it would quickly come undone and the Emperor would uncover the true depth of her disloyalty. The only reason she wasn’t in binders beside Anakin back home was because, she suspected, the Emperor wasn’t certain of how deeply she was connected to the Rebellion, and was undoubtedly manipulating her to find out. She wondered what was so urgent that the Emperor would leave him behind to attend to, and if she’d be able to find out in time to warn the Rebellion.

The ship launched into hyperspace, and Padme sat stiffly, conscious of the silence that felt heavy, stifling. The wait was interminable, and nothing broke the silence but the labored, hissing breath of the Emperor. It was easily several hours before the comm station beside the Emperor beeped. She watched as a wrinkled, withered hand reached and opened the frequency, but couldn’t make out the message, the voice was too tiny. “Excellent. Bring up Skywalker,” replied the Emperor, and she felt a twist in her gut. He had brought Anakin with them, that was dangerous.

“I have new accommodations for your husband,” he hissed. “I imagine you might want to see them.”

“If you insist, Emperor, but it makes no difference to me where a war criminal sleeps.”

“All the same,” he replied, almost mockingly. Padme was careful not to turn and look when the sounds of Anakin being brought in reached her ears; she had a feeling her acting was beginning to crack around the edges, but she persisted anyways. She could see in her peripheral, however, as the stormtroopers brought Anakin and forced him to his knees beside the Emperor, facing the view of space outside the ship, colored in white and blue and purple lines as they travelled through hyperspace.

“Quick jaunt?” he asked hoarsely, ironically.

“You and your wife are to be my guests on the finest and fully operational space station the galaxy has ever seen. You will witness it’s power firsthand.”

“Space station?” Anakin coughed, a noise that might have passed once as a sarcastic laugh. The Emperor remained silent, watching as the lines of light speed faded abruptly, revealing the velvety blackness of space and—Padme couldn’t help gasping, and he laughed.

“Yes…you see now, Senator, the power of the Empire? Your paltry Rebellion is hardly mighty enough to withstand the full force of this battle station. This…Death Star.”

The station was the size of a small moon, a gray shadow blocking out the stars around it. TIE fighters and Imperial freighters flew around it, their familiar whine puncturing the silence of space, and blinking lights marked edges and threw the deep depression on the far side into further shadow. Padme couldn’t help herself; she cast a glance at Anakin, who looked equally horrified, staring at the station with a fixed expression. She had heard rumors, of course, and passed them along to the Rebellion—that the Empire was building the ultimate weapon, that the destruction of Alderaan was a result of a space station so powerful that nothing could match it. But she had always been skeptical, more concerned with the immediate and more concrete intel she was managing, and from the looks of it, so had Anakin. Confronted with its power, Padme had a sinking feeling that their task had just grown immensely more difficult.


End file.
